


Don't Go

by HelloitsVehere



Series: Long Read ☆ [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Ruining History (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobic Language, Hurt Ryan Bergara, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Whump, shyan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloitsVehere/pseuds/HelloitsVehere
Summary: Shane's leaving. Ryan stays.





	1. i'm just driftin' through space

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by "Ikanaide (Don't go)" by Mafumafu ( ･ㅂ･) It's a very touching song!  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TL-zHhktRAM)
> 
> "You’re moving onto far and beyond, while I’m standing left behind  
Night running low and leaves me alone, dissolving you from my mind  
Eyes getting wet, don't be upset, but my heart really wants to cry  
Don't go away yet"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane got something to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of something that I'm not sure if I can keep going ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ School is killing my ass ;v;  
I listened to "You’re My World" by Atlas while writing this so ye  
(https://youtu.be/7Thvos92EVk)
> 
> "You open up your eyelids  
Gentle smirks exploding like a fire in the sky  
Until you scared away the forest creatures"

Ryan only expected it to be another boring day of work as he drags his heavy body up the staircase, ready to face any stack of paperwork on his desk.

The main door's surface is cold under his fingers.

His felling brightens up when he sees his best friend behind the clear glass of the Unsolved room, wearing a plain Buzzfeed shirt in his morning hair, the man truly looks like a model. His cheeks bones hands out under the room's light. Ryan can't help but feel his heart speed up a notch when he walks in.

Now he can see TJ, Mark, Devon, and others are surrounding their table. Huh. The office usually doesn't have a morning conversation. But some change is good, right?

As he moves closer, ready to put his bag down to the nearby chair, he faintly hears Devon's light voice "So when?"

"About next week I think, the faster the better"  
  
"You really looking forward to it huh?"  
  
Shane huffed "Of coursed" 

"What it’s guys?" Ryan can't hide his curiosity, Shane’s life has been his too, so whatever is making the man so excited, he gonna join the fun too.

Eyes fall on him, they all look surprised, like they didn’t expect the host to be there at all. Ryan is pretty sure they were all cheerful toward Shane a second ago, base on their tone, their smiles, but now it’s all filled startled and conceded.

The fuck?

They spend a good second of dead silence. Until Shane opened his mouth, only to be cut off by TJ.  
  
Why are they so aware of him?  
  
"Um, Ryan..."

He sounds careful, like trying to calm a startled cat. Or hiding a secret.

"Shane is-"

Ryan stare. Focusing on whatever subject about to jump out, but Mark lands a playful punch on the message man's biceps as Shane slowly steps up in front, hand motion behind the others. TJ seems stressed.

"We'll tell you later Ry. It’s ok" and his soft smile is all it takes to bring the normal atmosphere back, making Ryan believe it just another update for their show. A meeting maybe.

He tries to keep on to those words until the end of the day. But his friends' eyes keep showing sadness, empathy in them. Like he just got in an accident and lose a limb.

As he focusing on his task on the computer's screen, he keeps getting the same treatment by his employees. A pat on the back, a tight squeeze on his shoulder. It seems odd at first but Shane said everything was ok. So it gotta be.

They work in silence in the major of the day. Shane keeps having these calls from their boss, leaving his desk more than three times today. And when he came back, Ryan tries to read his expression. They're a mix between happiness, excitement, hiding behind a sad gaze.

At some point, Ryan begins their good old banter, see if he can clear up the mood. But Shane seems to take things seriously, personally, to the heart, as if his words are one of the most important things of his life.

Ryan starts to worry.

He starts to think about the possibilities that are there. Is the show having a problem? Are they cutting out the budgets again? Did something happen to Shane? To his family maybe? No, that wouldn't include Ryan in the 'need of comfort' zone. And if something went bad, Ryan would be the first one to hear. Shit, what if something happened to _him_? Is he not going to host Unsolved anymore? Is he getting fired?

The questions keep coming and coming until his mind can't daze off. And soon enough he realizes it's 4 pm, the end of their shift.

The afternoon sky painted itself with soft clouds, setting an orange color as the background, making them stand out. He begins to pack up all his stuff, his hand is shaking where they zip up his bag. A sudden hand placed on his back make him jumps.

He turns around to see Shane, putting a sorry face as he huffed a small laugh. He usually would laugh and call him a scaredy-cat, making Ryan jumps is one of his favorite activity, after all, the sudden comfort is strange.

Ryan can see the others standing by the door, trying to hold on their ground like students expecting a fight to happen. He about to ask them to leave since Shane seems personal about this, he wouldn't what his friend’s story to be spread out. Even though maybe _they_ heard it before him. Until Shane lowered his voice, keeping his hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"I got something to tell you"

Ryan has an audible shock. "O-Ok?"

"But not here, yet"

He did a hand motion, showing Ryan to follow him to the side hall. He didn't get a second chance to look at Mark's nervous face or Kelsey's painful eyes.

The sound of their footsteps settled in the middle of the dark hallway. The faint light coming from the windows could be seen as aesthetic if they weren’t in this scenario. They catch on to Shane’s fluffy hair and his down-warded eyes, his five o'clock shadow looks softer.

Ryan can hear his own harsh breathing. Why is he getting so anxious? Shane just wanted to talk to him. Well, about something that was being kept from him all day.

Shane moving slowly like he's in the wild, being hunt down by a predator. He scans Ryan’s expression, studying every detail like he’s setting up for a plan. Then, he finally takes a deep breath, starts slowly, making sure Ryan hear every syllable.

“I’m going back to Chicago, to host Ruining History”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you want a second chapter!


	2. we have to slow down because tomorrow is far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan having mixed feeling about the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by a Vietnamese song called "Love You Too Much" by JustaTee ヽ(´▽`)/
> 
> I recommend you listen to this song because it's one of the actual good ones in our music industries (づ￣ ³￣)づ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhTCatAKVpk)
> 
> Here's a badly translated lyrics (•–•;)  
"If someday, our dream fail  
You're not on my shoulder, our love turn so fragile  
Then one person stands waiting, the other keep dreaming"
> 
> By the way, Buzzfeed says on their website that they have offices in 18 cities around the world. I do not confirm that they have one in Illinois ´∩`

Chicago.  
  
Shane’s going back to Chicago.

To host Ruining History.  
  
It takes Ryan a couple of seconds to realize it’s Shane’s old show. You know, the one people keep asking for months in the comments of every Shane-related posts ever.  
  
Ryan tries to be normal, thinking of a comeback. His hand stiff on the side of his waistband. How can he be normal in this situation? How can anybody be normal when they crush slash co-host is going to have their old show back after ages of working with them, in another show?  
  
His mouth runs faster than his brain this time.  
  
“For how long?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“How long will you be gone?”

He's having mixed feeling but he knows that was not how a normal person would ask when they crush slash co-host is going to have their old show back-  
  
Shane shows a perplexed expression but then it flattened out along with his stressed ones from before. He exhales, feeling easier. Like he was expecting Ryan to go bat shit crazy or end him right there and now.  
  
Ryan was close to that, come to think of it.  
  
“‘Bout a week. The company there will work with the paper, seeing if they have an empty set there so we could move our stuff in” Shane smiles, thinking to himself maybe. “They’ll bring the show back”  
  
Now Ryan knows that flare in his friend’s eyes. It’s the same when he was twenty-five, when Unsolved get to air for the first time. It’s the same feeling you would get when being really enthusiastic about your project and finally got it to work out. It’s satisfaction, a fulfillment that will only come from your wildest dream. It makes your heart brimming with warmth and pleasure.  
  
Shane’s dark lens looks better like that, filled with delight and glee.

Ryan wouldn’t dare to ruin that.  
  
“Congrats dude” Ryan put on what he hoped to be a contented face. “Glad you finally being back with your bullshits” And he doesn’t mean it when he says it like that. Ruining History is fun, entertaining even from the first few episodes, that’s why people want it back, to continue with its chaos in history. It fit perfectly with Shane’s way of expressing himself.

“You’re not…?” Shane grin smoothes out a bit.  
  
“I’m not?” Ryan repeat.  
  
“You know. Mad?”  
  
“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know,” Shane says “About Unsolved?”  
  
Ah yes, sure. He was so focused on Shane’s kid that he forgot he also has a child at home to take care about. 

But really.  
  
What _about_ Unsolved?  
  
Unsolved has taken a good chunk of his life, it’s everything he worked for. It’s his entire carrier to search for ghosts at this point. Doing research, finding evidence, freaking out on the location,... But most importantly, he does it with Shane.

The show that has been the glue to their friendship, it brings them together so simply. From knowing each other’s name to their favorite film, tastes in food, to more personal stuff like family and relationships. They've come closer and closer every camera shot, every banter. Today he'd point out that they've accidentally touch hands, tomorrow he'd sit in a broken hot tub and somehow call said person 'daddy'.

He may or may not developed a crush that could end it all.  
  
And now his crush is standing there, holding his hope and dreams in those long lengthy arms. Asking what about Unsolved.  
  
He doesn’t know anything about Unsolved at this point.  
  
Ryan gulps “You’re leaving?”  
  
“No” Shane shook his head, his hair flows so lightly. Ryan wants to play with them. “Well, not, _ yet_. But we’ll see how the deal goes”  
  
“How did you do it?”

“Hm?”  
  
“How did you get the show back?”  
  
Look, if he has made it to this point he deserved to know the full story.  
  
Shane’s hand moves up, demonstrating the process. He has strong body language, Ryan noticed.  
  
“I’ve got the fair use of History from the boss, which was not fucking easy at all even they stopped it. Sign some contracts here and there. A _lot _ of paperwork” There are annoyances in his voice, Ryan couldn’t relate more. “I was about to sign up for another company but then they said that there’s an office in Illinois that could take care of the show since they have more budgets and free set, stuff like that”  
  
Shane’s tone upbeat, fast like he’s doing a presentation about his favorite kind of popcorn. Ryan couldn’t recall the last time he has been this eager. Then his heartbeat racing again.  
  
When _did _the last time Shane has been this eager for the show?  
  
“That’s nice,” He said lamely, aware of how the corner of his eye burns “Hope you can make it"  
  
“So we’re good?” Shane asks when Ryan turns his body toward the exit, shows that their conversation has come to an end.  
  
Ryan looks back and. Well, he shouldn’t have look back.  
  
Shane is set there still like he was waiting for something, something Ryan has to say. His tall frame blocks out the rest of the light from the window behind. His character is hard to tell from this backlit angle, but he can make out the tight shoulder and tensed lips. The dust moving around him looks like fireflies and on top of his head, they form a halo.  
  
Ryan doesn’t need the aurora when he can see Shane like this every day.  
  
He doesn’t know how much time he gets to.  
  
“Yeah, we’re good”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	3. this happiness was way too fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan question his entire reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by "End of You and Me" by Bill Schieb (≧◡≦)
> 
> You can hear me crying about the lyrics (ຈل͜ຈ)  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f28WViN6k9o)
> 
> "And I won't feel the same  
And you will be okay"

Ryan leaves the office with long steps. Taking his bag with him, he didn’t look up from the white marble floor as he pushes through the main door.  
  
He believed he saw some of his friends in the corner of the main lobby but he didn’t check.  
  
He was tired.

  
  
\-----

The rest of the day passes like a slow-motion movie. Blurry and fuzzy with some weird stage his mindset created. He recalls going to his car, set his hand on the leather steering wheel but have no memory of driving home. He was just _ there _, in front of his apartment door with sluggishness deep inside his bones.  
  
Taking off his shoes as he walks in, his phone buzzed inside his jeans pocket. It causes his left hip tingle. He thinks it just gonna be some random notification from an app. But Shane’s name pops up on the lock screen. ‘@shanemadej has posted a new tweet’  
  
Ryan throws his exhausted body on the sofa and opens the notice. It’s a picture of Shane with his show’s contract, his ridiculous face distract Ryan from the text on paper.  
  
‘Happily to inform you guys that Ruining History is back! I’ll be moving to the Buzzfeed office in Chicago and starts this baby again’  
  
It’s only been there for about five minutes and people already re-tweeting like crazy, saying how they ‘waited for this day to come’ and ‘congrats for successfully bring back the dead’. He’s glad that their platform cares about their side project along with the main one too.  
  
Well, ‘main’.  
  
Ryan pushes himself to sits up straight. After the storm of emotions, his brain is clearer. He thinks. There’s this weight in his chest that he can’t get rip off, it pulls down his shoulder and small frame as he holds his phone on shaky hands.  
  
‘Shane’s having his show back’ He thinks ‘Shane’s going to leave New York, leave the office, leave Unsolved’  
  
Shane’s going to leave _ him. _  
  
Now, Ryan isn’t a sensitive man that breaks down just because his best friend is moving. He deals with it many times when Shane flies to meet his family, going on a vacation, away for a trip. He’s fine with editing and doing research alone, that’s how he first started his job.  
  
But _this._ _This _ is different.  
  
Shane’s going to apply his program to the other headquarter. If he doesn’t get the position, he’ll come back, and it will be all back in place again. But if he does.  
  
Ryan’s going to lose Shane.  
  
And he doesn’t know if he can find a replacement that easy like Bert.  
  
He doesn’t care about losing the show’s main protagonist ‘skeptic and believer’ aspect anymore, he just wants Shane to stay, to keep living the life of ghost hunting and foolish talks with dumb fights.  
  
He wants to see Shane’s hand around their cup of coffee on a Tuesday noon. He wants Shane’s attention on him when he does a movie reference. He wants all of Shane’s hard and soft pats lands on his back on late-night shifts. He wants Shane’s characteristic voices in every Postmodern. He wants Shane to tell him his theories are nonsensical. He wants Shane’s laugh next to him when he’s screaming on the set. He wants Shane to make fun of his height when they do a photoshoot.  
  
He wants _Shane._  
  
Screw it if they say ‘Oh he just need Shane’s popularity to boost his production’. No. He needed _ the show _ to keep _ his ghoul friend _ back. He’s being selfish and he’s loving it, how about that?  
  
...But, does that make Shane happy too?  
  
The elated look in his vision when he talked about bringing the show back returns to his head. They were golden, full of life. Even when he says Shane’s a robot that has no emotion what so ever toward ghosts and demons, the pure overjoyed that he witnesses cannot be programmed. Ryan has experienced those feelings before, he enjoys it and he still gets those prickles on his arms every time he looks back on their journey.  
  
It’s one of those memories that you wish you could keep it in a bottle to last forever.  
  
He’s no judgment but Shane can have a bottle like that, Shane _ deserves _ a bottle like that.  
  
The man has been dealing with his stupid show for so long while he could have to work for his own and earn better attention than finding winds and creaks.  
  
Ryan shouldn’t meet Shane in the first place. When he sees that tall frame for the first time in the building, he should have known not to mess with it. Shane was so attractive and mesmerizing in those button-ups that he can’t help but stare like a teenager. It was a work crush at first, you come in, you show your best work to flex on the new hot employee. Then a twist happens when said hot employee signs up your show.  
  
He learns more about Shane and his ways of thinking, his funny personality,... A legit living mobile shoulder you can lean on if you will. Ryan realizes he is in love with this sasquatch that he works with throughout the seasons. It changes from ‘Unsolved is my life and I gonna work for it’ to ‘Shane is my life and I gonna work for Unsolved to keep it that way’. And that isn’t fair.  
  
He isn’t worthy enough for a partner like Shane. Why did he think he could just… drag Shane into his bullshits then not expect him to leave? Shane’s the one making the show blew up with his words, his charm. He gotta be tired of Ryan’s worthless effort of bringing himself to the spotlight as ‘the main host’, ‘the creator of Unsolved’. What it’s anymore when the ‘co-host’ is better than ‘the leader’?  
  
He’s nothing compared to Shane.  
  
So he needs to let Shane go and stop nagging him.  
  
The wet moisture on his face crashes down like broken glasses, they run down his cheek and free-falling to his lap. A tightening of his throat and a short intake of breath is all it takes for him to let out a sob. He sniffled quietly, feeling embarrassed under the withness of his empty apartment. He’s twenty-nine goddammit, and here he is, crying on this couch like some ten years old didn’t get their candy.  
  
Ryan tries to look through the blurred with tears vision, making his way to the bedroom, ready to end his day. Charged his phone, he plants his body in the middle of the island of blankets. You know, ghost safety. He tugs one over his sore eyes, blocks out light from his opened window.  
  
He mildly remembers Shane’s halo before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	4. i'm so used to lettin' go but i don't wanna be alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan cut himself short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by "You Were Good To Me" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler (ﾉ ◇ )ﾉ
> 
> I might as well just make a playlist for this fic already (´▽｀)  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=06k5XN78OP0)
> 
> "And now I'm closin' every door  
'Cause I'm sick of wantin' more  
You were good to me  
You were good to me"

Ryan opens his eyes and found himself swimming in a sea of comforters. The alarm clock has been replaced with a headache. 

Everything is buzzy as he stares at the air conditioner hanging on his wall. He studies his celling, it suddenly looks more interesting. All while he’s viewing the striped lines, he realizes something.

Maybe it’s a phrase of waking up after crying but he feels… nothing.

He doesn’t feel somber, doesn’t feel pleasant, doesn’t feel steady. It just empty.  
  
People say he was always so upbeat. Chock-full with excitement whether or not if it in front of the camera. Brimming with feeling when they’re in a location. Now all those emotions are gone, leaving him hollow.

He never used to be like this. He never thought of becoming like this. Whatever _this _ is.  
  
The room all of a sudden too narrow and dark, he pushes himself up, sitting on the cold bed. His head throbbed again, reminding he need more iron to live instead of drinking coffee all day. And _that _ remind him he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.  
  
...yesterday?  
  
Ryan tries to focus his hazy vision on the digital clock resting on his nightstand. 11 pm.  
  
He just slept for 7 hours and then wake up in the middle of the night.  
  
That can’t be healthy.  
  
Despite having better plans, Ryan leaves his bed to grab something edible from his fridge. As the cold air behind the metal door hit him, his sober self seems to come back. Looking at the contents, he reaches out to the popcorn packet.

Popcorns are nice. They are crunchy, crispy, delicious with butter, delightful when salted. You can have them while watching a movie, for a tiny meal. Just absorb all the burned smell, it’s lovely ‘pops’ in the microwave. Have it on a sunny day with a cold cola, save it for winter when it’s warm in the bow of your hand. It’s one of Ryan’s favorites.  
  
And Shane’s too.

The man stopped in the middle of the kitchen. His thought is driven back to his best friend. He and his lanky limbs wonder what he’s up to. Probably sleeping. Cause nobody gonna have a messed up sleep planter like him.  
  
The microwave creates a soothing buzz sound, keeping him company in the vacant of his apartment. Orage lights escape through the barrier film along with the sound of popping, they painted his walls with a chill mood. Ryan can sense the sleepiness behind his eyelid again.  
  
His lamp by the table showed him the way back to his mattress. Spotted his fully charged phone nearby, he takes it with the other hand.  
  
Ryan flop down to the sheet, carefully not spilling any of the substances in his grip. He gets cozy with the bow in his lap, a pillow behind his back and the phone in his hand.  
  
Shane’s name appears on his screen. Ryan taps on it. It’s an Instagram post, about 3 hours ago. Ryan takes his first popcorn.

‘It’s time for me to back on my old track again. Say goodbye to this ghoul boy on the next fan meetup here!’  
  
It contains the link to their booking website. On the left, it’s an image of Shane’s merch. The typical ‘hey there demons is me ya boy’ pin, the Unsolved’s cap, ‘wheeze’ cup, all laying around the Chicago plane ticket.  
  
Well, plane ticket_s _.  
  
There was two of them, Ryan is sober enough to count.  
  
Just as he brings another popcorn to his mouth, his heart knows how to beat again. And a rush of feelings runs through his veins.  
  
Shane is moving, _ with _ someone?

Why didn't he tell him?  
  
No, why does he have to care anymore? He decided it’s better for them to be apart, for Shane to work for his own show already. He’s not gonna turn back and start pulling him back again.

Ryan’s shaky fingers accidentally touch the link and it brings him to their website. He was about to hit the ‘fuck go back’ button until something caught his attention.  
  
On the bright pink layer, the timestamps of the event stand out with their black font. The show will start at 2 pm, signing signatures at 2:30, taking pictures at 3, Q and A at 4 and finally-  
  
‘The grand finale’ at 6, goes on till 9 pm.  
  
What're his plans here? A goodbye that lasts for 3 hours?  
  
Ryan opens the crew’s message group, determined to find some clues about his friend’s deal. Yeah, he could just call him and ask ‘Yo what the fuck are you up to’ but that’s too dangerous. He has decided to cut himself short not interact with his crush so it’ll be easier for both of them alright? The more he time he spends with Shane, the more he would want him to stay, the harder their sayonara will be.  
  
The heart and the brain don't always work with each other.  
  
He reads through the latest texts, feeling like a creep stalking their conversation. 

Teej: So how do you want to do this?

Big Guy: I dunno, kinna

Big Guy: just have everybody there, saying goodbye and stuff

Dev0n: u think u can handle it? almost 8 hours full dude

Big Guy: yeah. it’s my last day with the fans before I leave you know  
  
Dev0n: suit ur self buddy

Teej: Btw, what’s the whole grand finale thingy?  
  
Big Guy: ;)  
  
Camera Mark: If you not gonna tell us we won’t know what to do man  
  
Big Guy: just let me take care of itt  
  
Teej: Look, it’s your day, your plans, we get it. But at least tell us so we have the ideal of it will you?  
  
Camera Mark: Just let us help you one last time before you leave pleaseee  
  
Big Guy: alright alright  
  
Big Guy: Hot Daga  
  
Dev0n: i take it back u can leave right now  
  
Teej: Hey!

Big Guy: I was gonna sing the whole album live

Dev0n: of fucking coursed

Big Guy: and then you guys can sing along too! with the fans and all that jazz  
  
Big Guy: probably a bonus ep about all the characters too  
  
Big Guy: their ‘happily ever after’  
  
Teej: That’s gonna be really emotional then  
  
Dev0n: big boy gonna cry from his own hot dog saga come and see it this wednesday now

  
Shit. Wednesday?  
  
That’s tomorrow.

  
  
Camera Mark: Do we have to prepare somethin somethin?  
  
Big Guy: nah, just you guys are enough  
  
Dev0n: aw  
  
Big Guy: bring out your best performance, the topic is hot daga  
  
Dev0n: fuck  
  
Teej: That’s easy  
  
Dev0n: cause you love that shit that’s why  
  
Camera Mark: Ok I think I can manage  
  
Dev0n: what?! noooo  
  
Big Guy: or you guys could just do the singing with me. that’s is good enough  
  
Big Guy: I gonna go now, see ya  
  
Dev0n: ur lucky ur leaving. bye shane  
  
Camera Mark: Bye  
  
Teej: Good luck

  
Ryan throws his phone next to him, the bow of popcorn has gone cold.  
  
So Shane gonna have Hot Daga as his final goodbye. What can Ryan do to surprise him?  
  
Forget that he said anything about stop talking to Shane. Shane just wanted his friends and fans to appreciate his little show before moving on. That’s all he’s asking for.  
  
So Ryan will do it. As a friend.  
  
The man open Youtube and, God he can’t believe he’s doing this, search ‘believe me maizie’. When he found the thing he was looking for, the pen and personal notebook were taken down from his shelves. Ryan flips the pages and starts drawing notes down.  
  
Shane’s gonna own him so much after this.  
  
When Ryan’s almost done with the sheet, he quickly abandoned the forgotten popcorn to sprints to his wardrobe. Opens up the side door, the smell of old wood makes its way out as he dives into the dark corner of the closet. He grabs the leather texture out, patting away all the dusks.  
  
The guitar’s smooth surface slips through his fingers like welcoming an old friend.  
  
Ryan gonna give his best goodbye to Shane.

\-----

His fingers are hurting but he hasn’t stopped.

The music sheet is in front of his crossed legs, his hands stiff where they hold the guitar close to his chest. He has played it all once, twice but it’s not smooth enough. Plus the anxiety he gonna has when he performs it in front of other people, multiply it with Shane staring at him and finally double the self-doubt, he’ll get zero.

Sometimes, he gets up, goes to the bathroom, screams for a bit, washes his face with cold water, then gets back to practicing. It’s a loop that he get used to after those sleepless nights with scrips and audio files. But he can’t sleep cause he was scared of the dark spot in his room, not a strong-willed thought of wanting to impress his crush one last time.

God, why did Shane have to make such a hard song to play on guitar? ‘Probably’, his mind adds, ‘because Shane never expected his pal to cover it into a music sheet, practice at 4 in the morning, a week before he leaves New York.’

Ryan clenches his fist then relax them again, starting to become impatience. He’ll probably get noise complains about performing a literal music show but that’s not important.

Ryan pitch the metal strings. Seventh try.

“It’s looking like I’ve had enough

I tried the best I could but I don’t get the stuff”

  
  
Ok, so far so good.

  
  
“I got shot by the Chili Pope

It’s easy living as a french fries”

Mmhm, yes, keep going-

“I’m critically acclaimed but now it’s time to-”

  
  
His ring finger misses the A string.  
  
Ryan’s palm is holding a pool of his own sweats, it gets sticky were they hold the fretboard. Ryan throws his instrument aside and lay on his back, watching the street rays cast a light show on his ceilings.

Maybe it's because of the frustration, maybe it's because of the late-night vibe. But he really wanted to cry looking back at his own situation. 

Shane is leaving.

It's because the show isn't good enough.

It's because _ he _ isn't good enough to make him stay.

And now his performance isn't good enough neither.

Groaning, he angrily swipes his face, smearing the moisture all over his forehead. Ryan looks over his innocent phone face down on the white pillows, reach over, feeling the hard cold texture on his currently burning skin.

Swipe over the lock screen, he saw Shane's contact pops up. Is he still up?

Nope, it's was at 7 pm. Thanks, instant notification system.

It was a picture of Shane standing next to… Sara. They were both smiling at the camera. The text on top reads 'The show is were the co-host at'. Ah, right. Sara worked with Shane on this, of course, she has to go with him.

… isn't _ he _ though?

Ryan knows what the resume of every show he has ever joined ok? And he pretty sure here, it goes like, 'Shane is starting his own show Running History, alongside best friend Sara and ghoul friend Ryan'.

Not 'Shane and Sara versus the world' 

This sickening feeling runs through his veins, burning under his skin. It makes his throat tighten, chest heaving heavily and his eyebrows draw together. Anger swirled like a red tide within him, rising to choke him. His breath became harsh and shallow.

Jealousy.

_ No, no, no _ wait. What?

Ryan wasn't in a relationship with Shane or anything, neither is Sara. He is pretty sure that he has the higher ground of being Shane's partner in Unsolved. No offense but Sara wasn't- 

_ He _ and Shane was the original duo alright? And, _ he _ was asked to eat lunches with him. _ He _ was hanging out with Shane on Fridays evening and come over to talks about the new episodes, _ he _cracks jokes and movie references that only they can understand, and, and- 

Who is he even giving these excuses to? He was just wondering, _ just wondering _ why Shane choose Sara over him when _ both _ of them were his sidekick. His mind just set him in a boxing ring against Sara. It's too soon _ and _too late to think of this. Literally, nobody thinks about jealously over best friend's best friend at 5 in the morning, while said best friend is leaving within a week.

Ryan looks at his clock, he picks up the guitar again, settle on his bed. Pushing all the not-safe-for-friends emotions under the music notes.

If he _ were _ in competition with Sara then the prize is the ticket to Chicago with Shane.

Ryan has lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!
> 
> What I learned from writing this chapter is that there's a Genius Lyric page for the Hot Daga... yeah that's it.


	5. are you off to see the places that were in your dreams?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get up and see the last fan meet up now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fantasy" by khai dreams  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLARMbgINwc)
> 
> When I got back to see my old classmates this is what I feel like. But then they welcome me and yells my name as if they _wanted_ me to be there. It was really heartwarming ヽ(●´∀`●)ﾉ not this fic though eheheh
> 
> "If it all just ends today  
I think I will be okay  
But I’ll always wonder if  
This is how it should’ve been"

The sound of alarm woke Ryan up. 

He probably looks terrible. Covers in sweat, tears and buried in too hot blankets. The bags under his eyes will suggest how stupid his sleep schedule is. He should get a hair cut, maybe shave too, to looks less like he has been doing meth.

Glorious sunshine is on the other side with singing birds, he just needs to open up that barrier. Physically, not mental.

The clock on his wall points to 1 pm. He signs realize he has yet another unmotivated morning. He's getting lazy with the show. Shane's gonna kill him if-

Fuck.

Ryan uses him somewhat still alive energy pushes himself up, blindly reaching over the clothes on his chair. His head throbs but his legs still going.

Fuck fuck fuck today they have a fan meet up fuck.

How did he forget?! No. Not _ forget _forget, just overslept! He cares about Shane, he truly does! He remembers the dates and time ok? He has like, five alarms for today. He did not just fucking miss his friend's last day with their fans. No, he can still make it. He can still show Shane that he's worthy even when he left the show. He can still be Shane's best friend. He can still-

He can still _confess._

Ryan pulls up his ripe jeans and throws on his denim shirt with pins and buttons attached to it. Fixing his hair one last time in front of the mirror, he glances over the mess on his bed.

The guitar and the music sheet sits quietly on the island of layers, judging him.

Will he take the chance?

Ryan grabs the leather guitar bag by his desk, stuffing all the contents in.

‘Only this once’

\-----

The Uber trip takes him there just in time. Enough for him to calm his hammering heart, not enough to miss the main show. The front was full of fans wearing Shane's merch and signs with thank yous and goodbyes. It was a whole beach full of people. Shane leaving _ does _ have a big impact on their platform.

Ryan wonders if their role was reversed, would it be the same.

He slips through the VIP door to see their panel not too far away. There's TJ, there's Mark. Over there they have Devon, Kelsey,... Then he saw Shane, wearing his typical plain shirt with pants that can only comfortable for his legs. His soft dark hair is comb neatly to aside so the light can reach his downwards eyes and tall nose. 

Ryan wishes to punch his dumb sexy face, on those glittering lips, with his lips, softly.

He took some steps toward his friends, only stop to see Sara standing by Shane.

It looks, _wrong._

Again, no offense but _ Ryan _ has been the one standing next to his tall pole every fan meet up alright? _ He _was supposed to be there, waving and smiling to his fan beside Shane. They have heard of Shane and Ryan, but do they want to get ready for Shane and Sara.  
  
Probably yes cause no one notices him missing at this point.  
  
Come to think of it, nobody even looking at him right now.  
  
The guitar seems heavier behind his back.  
  
And as he standing there, silently watching people laughing at something Sara said, it like a knife to the chest.  
  
It’s one of those moments where you take the vision of an outsider, observe all of your friends’ expressions and realize you don’t need to be here. They have enough. They don’t need you.  
  
They don’t need him.  
  
Shane doesn’t need him.  
  
Now, Ryan just itching to get back to his messy bed and leftover popcorn bow. He misses the cold of his air conditioner. He wants to be inside his empty apartment with imaginary ghosts to keep him company. It seems weird to just- stand here, joining into the fun they have with his weird present gonna make it worse.  
  
Maybe _ this _ is the justification why Shane chooses not to tell him first in the crew. Ryan just so needy and clingy to him that he basically _ knows _ how Ryan gonna act. Like a teenager.  
  
His face hot while his throat stuck around an unswallowable cry, eyes sting at the corners. Ryan tightens his grip on the guitar’s strap, where it holds too close to his chest. He can’t breathe.  
  
Shoes lead him back to the track he came in, he turns his body toward the direction. His back now faces to the voices, hoping that the black guitar case can hide his existence.

“Ryan!”  
  
Or not.  
  
He begrudgingly shifts back, his vision meets with others. They’re reading his movement with judgments, he discerns.  
  
“Got your old friend there?” Mark cocks his head at the instrument.  
  
Fuck, nowhere to go back now.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I-”  
  
“That’s great. We finally gonna get Guitara Bergara guys!” Shane looks delighted, his beam is a thousand lux. Sara leans on Shane’s shoulder, wrapping her smooth hand on the taller’s neck. “All you need to sacrifice is a Shane”  
  
They laugh. Together. Ryan feels awkward.  
  
TJ says something in the back, it got Shane’s attention. He spins back to address the crew to get in place, the show’s getting started. And his face blooms with excitement.  
  
Ryan doesn’t know what to do at that moment other than stare. All the experiments from the last Vincons, talk shows, just _gone._ He doesn't know what to do. Should he get ready? No, that sounds dumb. He should get on the panel right? Or do they have to wait for the fans to actually get through the main entrance? Go the stage? He guesses there’s enough time for him to practice the song one more time. No, that would spoil the whole thing. How about-  
  
“Ryan, you going?”  
  
The man heads up, seeing Shane again, his pale hands relaxed on the belt loop of his light jeans. And, fuck, he got that face. The face whenever he expects Ryan to scream when there’s a creek noise on their set, when Shane just say a cheeky pun line and hope Ryan to laugh, when they have done a weird bit and wondered if they should continue. Even at their exchange after work. It’s the look that urges him every time to do _ something. _  
  
“Yeah”  
  
Ryan will keep things simple between them. As long as Shane’s with him, he’ll be happy with his acts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	6. you should be with them i can't compete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan performs what he practices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡ ﾟ_ゝ ͡ ﾟ ) "SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK" by Joji  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3Qzzggn--s)
> 
> Trigger warning (?): Almost car crash  
"When I'm around slow dancing in the dark  
Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms  
You done made up your mind  
I don't need no more signs"

The meeting wasn’t too bad, in his opinion. They signed some cards, mostly Shane. They took some pictures, mostly Shane. They answered questions, mostly Shane. And they were showered in love and attention, mostly Shane.

But it’s only for today, there’s no second farewell here.  
  
Ryan shifts his uncomfortable body on the chair. They were talking with supporters, still, mostly Shane. Even if he didn’t talk much as he used to, he glads he be able to sit next to this amazing human being, listening to his soothing voice through the speakers, revealing the plans for the brand new Ruining History season.  
  
However, his mind is fighting about the spotlight he’s getting.  
  
‘Are people looking at me? Shit, I should change my position, they might think I’ve zoned out or something. What, no. I just moved my hand. That looks weird I should rest it like, right, here. No, what are you doing?! Don’t tighten your hand. Ok, stop moving. God, what are you-. They’re not gonna _care_, Shane’s speaking. But there might be _ someone _would look at me. This place is full of people. Fuck, fuck-’  
  
“About Ryan,” Shane said, the sudden mention shake him up. Ryan quickly fixes his dazed mind, focuses on the context he has been given. “I think he’ll still move on with Unsolved, find a new skeptic or he could just pat the dusk off of Bert in the attic and uses him again” he chuckles. “What your plan, little guy?” Shane glazes over him, his eyes reflected the shine from the pins on his jacket.  
  
“I, well” He takes a deep breath, face turns red at how his voice breaks. Calm down. If this is the last time he can be heard on stage with Shane so be it.  
  
“I might go on alone. Cause Bert got his stuff now too. I don’t think I even have the balls to pull him back here again. Plus, ‘finding a new skeptic’ is already an unsolved quest right there, nobody is dumb enough like you”

The listeners snicker, but he only got eyes on Shane’s grin.

“But, yeah. I don’t think I’m gonna seeing anyone else soon” That, sounds, weird. Like they were dating or something. “It’s hard to face the ghosties alone but being with another new person is true hell. I’ll have to know their personality, their way of work all over again. I… I don’t know if I gonna find someone like Shane again”  
  
The entire room filled with gasps and ‘aww’s, Shane maintains his scoffed expression and turn back to the audiences. “And you have it, folks. When I finally leave, the real side of Bergara jumps out _ begging _ me to stay”  
  
Ryan’s heart stiffen. He wasn't… _ begging_. It’s just, he just showing some warmth at least. He forces his mouth a comeback. However, the eyes of their fans are prickling on his skin, making his throat dry. There’s too much attention for one man to handle and he’s a cup of overwhelmed feelings. He is being exposed in front of hundreds of people.  
  
To answer Ryan’s weird silence, Shane just continues with his speech, thank goodness. Though Ryan can still taste the strange asmosphere he brought up, forming an unpleasant ball at the rear of his larynx. He sinks down along the seatback, trying to make himself smaller. Well, smaller than normal. Afraid to meet the crowd, he set his vision on his hands tied together, trying not to be devastated by the sob growing in his rib cage. Why is he so close to crying?  
  
‘Please be over soon, please be over soon, please-’

“And now we like to welcome you to the show we called the Hot Daga - grand finale”  
  
‘Fuck I take it back don’t be over yet, don’t be over yet. Fuck, fuck, fuck’  
  
“To celebrate the come back of Ruining History, I’d like to say goodbye to one of my mini-franchise too. By having every one of the Unsolved’s crew perform a play that includes the theme Hot Daga” Shane merrily announces, his hand flying on their table.

They are doing this, in timeline style maybe? Which means his play would be halfway through. Yes, he binge-watch the Hot Daga for this. Alright, he gonna go chill in the backstage, have a cup of water, a piece of cake, practice once or twice and it’s gonna be done. Alright.  
  
He got this.

  
\-----

  
He doesn't get this.  
  
While his fingers are shaking with jitteriness, his heart his beating five miles an hour, he’s no doubt sweaty as fuck too. The limelight becomes too bright, it stings his view with worries and anxiety. His lungs aren’t working properly, leaving him a mess of unbalance oxygen. He can hear his own uneasy breathing with the sound of chanting in the background, it’s like a fucked-up playlist. 

He doesn't get this.

Ryan thinks as he moves his feet on to the stage. Eyes all drawn to him as Devon and Kelsey leave supportive pats behind his wet back. The guitar base hefty in his grasp in the process of walking to the middle. Ryan pulls the small stool over, feel the warm wood under him. Ok, breathe. Shane is watching him from the side, he’ll get the message. He will.  
  
Ryan strung the guitar when the brightness around him set, leaving one last beacon on him. It’s too much recognition, too much perception for him to deal with. He hopes his shaky voice doesn’t show that. It went smoothly enough, Ghoulians seemingly marvel at the display from the number one Hot Daga hater.

The line he has been hone since yesterday flows out.

“I know that life is crazy

But believe me,”

  
  
Ryan stares over to Shane, who is leaning on the wall on his left. Giving him what he hopes is truthfulness in his eyes and purposely breaks the lyrics.

  
  
“Baby

You’ll be fine without me there”

Perhaps it’s rude to say it right now, admitting his personal crush on the Hot Daga ceremony. Though, would Shane listened to him if he didn’t have any association with his favorite stupid hot dog show?

He can't read Shane's expression cause the second he breaks eye contact, Shane's gone. The place went silence for him to finish his song. Ryan gratefully didn’t have any other ideas to cover the next refrain. He has shown enough.  
  
People clap and cheered once he stood up from his spot but he couldn’t care more. Ryan hurriedly sprints to behind-the-scenes, looking for Shane to see if he get the message. What will he answer? That it was cheesy? It was dumb? He might be mad cause Ryan changed his original, emotional libretto. Or, he could hug Ryan tight, telling him ‘finally’ before picking him up for a kiss.

… those theories are as good as his zombie plague ones.  
  
Dash over the corner, he sees Shane in his suit. With the necktie, white jacket, and long, coal trousers. The lappels and pockets are black, create an opposite attracting color panel with his main theme. Shane’s fingers curl around the cuff buttons effortlessly. Shane didn't even _notice_ him. Before Ryan could even take that stunning image in, Shane’s on his feet toward the stage, hand in hand with-  
  
Sara.  
  
She’s wearing the same clothes as Shane, with an elegant cane on the other palm. They look like game show hosts and, they fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. Ryan doesn’t know if the new is bumping in his head or not but.

This is what Running History supposed to look like. With Shane and Sara being their awesome selves go breaking tales of the past. And it looks _right._ It’s the definition of the ‘power couple’ and ‘extraordinary duo’. It’s what an internet program _needs,_ the buttons and bows, the Batman and Robin, the salt and pepper. And, if Ryan was saying _ he’s _ the one who should be standing by Shane, he’s all wrong.  
  
The way Sara understood Shane’s hint in their play is enough to convince that Ryan is wrong.

He should let go of Shane.  
  
So he packs up his belongings and left.

  
  
\-----

  
  
It’s 8 pm the time he gets out on the street. The sound of music and laughter can still be heard behind his exit, with Shane’s broadcasting tone and Sara’s lighter one. It haunts his ears. Ryan incline on to the brick wall outside the building, his guitar case stops the direct contact. He grabs a can of beer on the way out by the set, only makes him more guilty for leaving. He cracks it open, willing to drown himself in alcohol.  
  
So, now what?

He assumed there’s still a party left but with only their co-workers. Ryan doesn’t know if he can attend any social events any time soon, not say with his friends.  
  
The breeze put its icy fingers on his cheeks. Like a slap to the face, he realizes that he’s missing out on all the fun on Shane’s last day. Yet he told himself that he’s a good friend that would be by his side no matter what show he’ll stay in. Shane’ll think that once he leaves, Ryan just yeet out and never talk to him again. That their friendship is based on Unsolved. But it isn’t.

It's not even friendship, it’s love.  
  
It’s the hunger to get closer, the crave to place their lips together. It’s the lust to hold each other tight without being awkward, without any of ‘no-homo’ bullshits. It’s the need for attention, it’s the thirst for touch, it’s the demand to spend more time with one another. It’s not the money or fame, it’s _Shane._  
  
But he can’t tell Shane any of that. He lost Shane, physically, he wouldn’t dare again.  
  
This nauseating caught up in his nerves, making him debilitated, and his stomach sick. He’s so _tired_. Of being sad, of this stupid crush he can’t get over with. Of _ himself. _

It’s embarrassing to have a breakdown in a dark alley like this, even if his only witness is the star night. But the pain in his chest can’t seem to sized and before Ryan knew it, his face is wet. He couldn’t hold the bitterness any longer and he falls to the floor in a disheveled heap as his grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears. He drags his legs up, let the ripped knee part of his jeans meet his eyes. It hurts every time his heart makes a beat. He wants it to stop.  
  
Shane is leaving.  
  
He should too.  
  
Despite the ache still dominate his body, Ryan pushes himself up weakly. His blurry vision can’t make out the street’s lights and the car’s anymore. It’s ok, it makes things easier this way. He just wanted, _ needed _ a distraction from this awful torment inside. By some influence from outside instead. Probably by getting drunk on beer and alcohol.  
  
The bottom of his shoes meets the pedestrian crossing but his eyes didn’t meet the red of traffic control. His hearing is blocked from the sound of a beeping car growing louder secondly. The guitar case seems to pin him in place, only let his head turn to meet a pair of headlights.

Ryan was so close to the aurora that it was warm on his skin like Shane.

That until he has pulled to the cold sidewalk again, with the aurora himself holding his frame. Despite the sickness from fast movement, his eyesight lands on Shane still in his suit, shaking with fear in his eyes. He awaited Shane to make a 'why did Ryan cross the road' joke after sees his fucked-up act, but.  
  
“Where the fuck where you going?!” His voice filled with rage, loud, enough for him to wince. Shane's worries were taken out by anger and. Ryan never saw Shane like this, terrorized, panicking. Shane was always the swell and chill skeptic in every frame of videos, even after their maniac bits, even when Ryan loses his cool. Ryan always finds comfort in him, but now that his downward eyes are wide and filled with shock, it scares him.  
  
“I- I’m” Ryan is lost of words, the tremor still squeezing his soul. His entire body sufficient in terror and trauma, his head ail. What do people even say when their crush just saved their life?   
  
“I’m sorry”  
  
Goddammit, not that.

Ryan's statement shattered as tears start to form again, threatened to fall down the same track from before. He doesn't know why he's apologetic or what he's contrite for. Ryan is probably making a face, so he looks down, tracing the pattern of the concrete, hiding from Shane’s judgment. Droplets of water raced down his cheeks and chin, they collapse on his hands still holding the guitar’s strap around his physique.

He’s high on emotions and emptiness from the past days so when Shane tug him closer, he didn’t notice or care. It’s his tactic to just let people take care of him when his brain is shut down entirely. Like when he's overworked or pass out on his desk in the recording room. Which… isn’t a good tactic. But it's always Shane who gets the idea of it every time, this time is no other. Even if they have never come to the point where Ryan almost kills himself yet.

Ryan just misses how strong those long arms can be around his biceps, how small he is against the other. He wants to shower in Shane’s scent, the smell of the ground after rain, mixed with a soft shampoo favor.  
  
Shane didn’t mind, he let Ryan zone out, wetting his flannel fabric with tears. Ryan only recalls Shane phoned someone, soon after lean them back to their hotel down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!
> 
> (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MmltUzDjKgA)  
:'))))) I'm so sorry


	7. puddles underneath our feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was raining when the boys got back to the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🌧️ "Paris in the Rain" by Lauv  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOCkne-Bku4)
> 
> Yes, I know they aren't in Paris shut up╭(•⌣•)╮
> 
> "I look at you now and I want this forever  
I might not deserve it but there's nothing better  
Don't know how I ever did it all without you  
My heart is about to, about to jump out of my chest"

Ryan occupies on Shane’s left, his legs working sloppy. The clicking of the bottom of Shane’s shoes intertwined with their uncomfortable silence. Ryan doesn’t have the fortitude to opens his mouth again, for he doesn’t know if Shane’s heavy footsteps were built on wanting to go back to the hotel and rest, or he’s mad at Ryan.  
  
The cold whiff of petrichor slowly creeping down from the clouds above. There’s this tapping on the roofs and then it became a pitter-patter. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars next to their path danced with spray. Some walkers ran for cover and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water.  
  
It begins to rain. 

The various color pattern of gamps and lights on the gray background of the night sky mesmerizes a disoriented Ryan but not a heated Shane. As their walkway no longer has enough roof to protect them from droplets of water, the taller took off his white overall and covers Ryan’s bare head.  
  
“Wh-”  
  
“Hurry”  
  
The firm tone he receives automatically puts his body to work out mode, the guitar doesn’t slow down his momentum anymore as he followed Shane’s lead. Ryan picks up that Shane has a thick line between playing around and being genuine. He may be rebellious but he knows not to mess with a serious Shane.  
  
The weather has other plans for the couple. It wasn't just rain, it was a downpour as heavy as Ryan had ever seen back in LA. Walking through a literal waterfall couldn't get any wetter, Shane’s shirt doubtless needs some drying after this. The drops struck the already wet sidewalk, pitting the surface like they were bullets from above. It’s some kind of skating platform for water sport and their shoes are definitely not accordant.

Ryan is sprinting as fast as he can under his friend’s small shelter. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, sweat covered the nape of his neck. Keeping his breathing steady, Ryan pushed harder and went faster as cold air bit into his lungs. Gut-wrenching, heart-pumping, after several thrusts forward his legs are smoldering with exhaustion, he’s trying to keep up but-  
  
Ryan strips forward on the wet surface with his body falls on his hands still holding the bag’s strap around his middle. His clothes soak in cold liquid. Ryan wheezed as breath knocks out of his pleura. Vision smear with water drops, he struggles to get back on his feet again, hopelessly getting back on the track.  
  
The smaller’s build got picked up by two helps all from Shane. The skeptic crouch down to checks his present, normally Ryan would make a remark of the height difference but his careful stare shut Ryan up. Making sure there were no major injuries, Shane gives Ryan his white coat then turns around, still in a crouching position. The backside of his formal shirt is almost transparent, Ryan spends a good second to marvel at how his back flexed and tensed until Shane make a hand movement to ‘come closer’.   
  
“Get on my back”  
  
Shane can lift him up, they did that before, but now with heavy rainfall _ and _ the guitar? The situation becomes more difficult for Ryan to accept. Not even say how many people might notice a five-foot-tall man piggy ride a nine-foot-tall sasquatch while holding a white cover like some kind of mobile house. He wouldn’t make Shane’s day worse than now. 

“Ryan” Shane glare behind his shoulder, impatience. His approach is more demanding. If he doesn’t listen to him, there _ will _ be consequences and presumably, make him more pissed off. Now, does Ryan want to do this or fall a couple more time on their way back?

They’ll both need a shower after this.  
  
Ryan’s hands found their way around Shane's neck while Shane’s ones hold onto the lower back of Ryan’s. Shane found no problem getting back on their fast pace while Ryan holds the shirt up to keep somewhat still dry part of them. 

He tries his best not to squirm much but it’s hard when Shane’s so adjacent, pressed close to him in every way. The warm of skins can sense through their thin layer drowned in rain. The smell of Shane’s cologne faintly brushes his nose. His soften hair tickles on his Adam apple. His palms rest on the other’s chest, learning the pattern of his heartbeat.  
  
Ryan clings on to Shane, not wanting to let go in any form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	8. why can nothing stay the same?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the hotel, Ryan have a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🐦 "Pigeon" by Cavetown  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nPaXvOAqVrk)
> 
> \\(•^•)/ somedays I don't write shit, somedays I post two chapters at the same time  
"Didn’t give me time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to  
So honey close your eyes and stay like you’re supposed to do"

Ryan becomes soberer the time they make it back to Shane’s room. He's still shaking, high on nervousness grow by their quiet. Or from the cold of the rain? Ryan doesn't care, he just knows as long as Shane's with him, nothing can go wrong.

Shane opens the dark wooden door with his room key, stepping inside first. He’s still in his clothing while the second piece, as Ryan called it, is tossed to the floor. Now, Ryan wondered if Shane canceled the show to get him.  
  
No, that would be too much. Ryan doesn't deserve that. He shouldn’t be getting Shane’s supervision like he’s a kid anymore. Ryan shouldn’t be wasting his precious time like this. Shane should be out and about, party with friends and getting good luck wishes for his carrier. But Ryan. While Ryan could-  
  
He should have followed the other aurora.  
  
Shane's room has these yellow-y lamps that brighten up the whole place. There's some furniture laying around, all seems too small for his big friend. A suitcase found by the coffee table, next to a sofa. His backpack laying on the side of a bed.  
  
There were _two _ beds.

Ryan figured maybe of his booking.

While still gazing at all the stuff, Shane crouched down to his soaking shoes. It was a sight to enjoy since Ryan never saw this view before. He keeps his view on Shane’s wet hair as his shoelace was quickly done. Ryan takes off the guitar case, rest them on the side of the door. He suddenly feels shy being in Shane’s room. Should he ask for a towel? A fresh shirt and a boxer maybe? How about a shower? No, he should let Shane go first, he brought enough inconveniences for tonight.

Ryan sits in front of the sill to take off his sodden pair of sneakers, he put them on to the shoe racks, hoping the air conditioner will dry them up soon. Ryan departs his socks, Shane silently walks to the closet, his wet footsteps on the wooden floor. They haven’t exchanged a word since they came.

Shane takes some new clothes, put it on top of the pillows and blankets laying on his bed. Taking half of the contents, he turns on the bathroom’s radiation, standing by the entry. The brilliancy makes Ryan squinted his eyes but not missing Shane’s dazzling look. What is it with Shane and lights?  
  
“You wanna shower?”  
  
“Throw me a towel, big guy. I can work myself out”  
  
Shane shifts his frame, unsure of what to do. He eventually makes up his mind, too tired to put on a fight, and kept his gaze on to the bed, cocking his head toward it. “Use the blue one. I’ll be done later” The shorter nodded “Oh, and,”  
  
Ryan looks at him again, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Shane’s frame is humid in front of the bathroom, there are the remains of the rain where he’s standing. Ryan feels, bad. For making him like this, for dragging Shane out of his own party and make them walk under heavy rain. And, yeah. Maybe if Shane stays at the party, Ryan would be on his way to the hospital by now.  
  
But that sounds better.  
  
Ryan doesn’t want to be a burden.  
  
“You’re sleeping here?” Shane’s voice bust through the hard sound of water tapping on the window. Ryan meets Shane’s eyes, the question was more like an affirmation now. ‘Sleep here’.  
  
“Yeah”  
  
Shane smiles and go do his thing. Ryan stands up when the door is closed. Ignored how his head throbs, he makes it to the bed’s side and takes the navy blue cloth, it reminds him of his color in Unsolved. As he wipes his face, a canary shade at the corner of his vision caught his attention.  
  
Ryan turns over to see that Shane kept the other one, his yellow towel, in the suitcase he saw earlier. They bought this pair a long time ago, Ryan remembers spending a good day searching for the right color that suited, so they don’t have to use the dirty ones at the hotels they stayed in during filming. Ryan wondered why his was kept by Shane.  
  
Is Shane giving it back?  
  
Well, consider that he carries the other one, Ryan should store his too. It’s... weirdly strange to think of their personal stuff that has a connection like this. Like their merch, the clothes they let each other borrow and later on found it in the corner of their drawers, the DVDs of classic scary movies all year round. Could be all the memories of late-night pizza boxes with beer, bits of popcorns on his carpet, alcohol drink to sober up on the next day of recording. Or the fanarts, the supports from their fanbase. It’s like a promise that Shane will come back, that he would work on Unsolved with Ryan a month or so, even if Ruining History become successful again.

Ryan can’t trust that yet. He continues to dry himself.

\-----

  
  
It’s almost 10 when Shane has done with his washing up, the drizzling of the weather set a comfy mood.  
  
He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and gray chinos, hair dammed from the aftermath. Ryan finishes sooner, dressed in Shane’s sweater that’s obviously too big for himself. His hand is swallowed by the sleeves, his boxers and thigs covered by the bust. 

Shane entered the room, settles down beside the smaller friend, dipping the mattress. Shane search for Ryan’s eyes but all he got was reticence. Ryan is lost in his head again, which was normal considering the man has to work with the wind all the time. However, he almost worked with a car crash.

“Ry”  
  
Shane calls out. Ryan doesn’t flinch.  
  
“Ryan”  
  
He says again, louder. That got Ryan’s attention like a bullet, his wide eyes meet Shane. The taller takes a breath, ready to figure out what’s wrong. He should be at the celebration for sure, yes, but he can’t enjoy it fully if his best friend is, well, Ryan.  
  
“What, exactly were you thinking... when you cross the road?”

“What was I thinking?” Ryan ask.

“You left the show without telling anyone and almost got hit by a car”  
  
“I wasn’t- Look, I was gonna go outside to take some air ok?”  
  
“And go to the other side of the street to do so?”  
  
“Fucking, air pollution, I don’t know. The other side has more trees”  
  
“Ryan”  
  
Shane puts his hand on the other’s shoulder, Ryan tensed under his grabs, and, was he shaking? Why is Ryan shaking? It’s like he’s in the Sallie house all over again. Maybe cold? Fuck, Shane could feel it.  
  
The friend was about to stands up from his position, checking the temperature. But Ryan clings on to him, desperately. Shane looks down as Ryan grabbing the hand he put on his shoulder. His dark fingers created some contracts on Shane’s lighter shirt. Shane stood still, Ryan's too. His mind is all over the place. 'Say something Ryan. It's getting awkward'  
  
But he didn’t. Not after a minute, which was _not _ Ryan’s deal at all. He always has something to say, some mockery he could make up about the situation, some comment about ridiculous ghost theories online. Shane hovers for a bit then moves his stiffen hand, Ryan’s clutch tighten. What the fuck?  
  
“Ryan, I’m gonna go check the air conditional”  
  
“Please don’t”

Ryan doesn't know what gotten into him but. He doesn't want Shane to leave, not even to the other side of the room. He wants, he needs Shane here, by his side, or his heart might explode, or he might die, or. Maybe Ricky will jump out. This nauseated is moving on his spine, tingling. He's aware of the stupid fear, the fear that if he let Shane go, he'll _go_. That he'll get in his matching clothes with Sara again, will go back to the party. That he'll get the tickets and hop on to the soonest plane possible, leaving New York. That Shane's show will go through and he'll never come back for him. Ryan doesn't want that. He doesn't want that at all.

His mind only asks for Shane, is that too much to ask? He only needs all of this nine-foot floppy idiot to stick with him on a location. The smiles and chuckles that flip his entire mood around in a second. The friendly gestures after a hard day of editing. Those insanely long limbs around his body. The jokes and horrible puns about his height. Their harmless banter that could be seen as controversy from outside. Those warm, welcoming eyes on him. All he needs is Shane _Shane **Shane**_.

He's aware of a confused Shane studies him. He never has a mental breakdown like this before. When they're not inside some creepy old haunted mansion with ghosts, they're here, in a comfortable hotel room with zero threat what so ever. Right in front of Shane too.

What Ryan does, he put on a smile, a weak laugh to push some of the intense emotion away before carrying on. And Shane would be there to make that laugh more real or at least distract him from whatever windy noise he heard. But here Ryan's head is held down like he doesn’t want Shane to look at him, his digits digging a hole in the wool material, breath comes out shallow and short. Shane tries to test the grip, Ryan snatch back to presses his eyes on to the cuff of Shane's sweater, the other could feels the wetness saturate on to his skin. And... is Ryan sniffing his shirt?

His clutch becomes more despondent, climacteric like Shane might disappear to thin air.

It was confirmed by Ryan’s hoarded voice and his babbling.  
  
“Please don’t go, Shane, please stay with me, I’m sorry, please, don’t go, don’t leave me, Shane, don’t move away, please, please, please, Shane, I’ll be better, I promise, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”  
  
Humiliating.  
  
Shane lowered his body on to the bed, immediately Ryan flung his hands on to his neck, pulling him down to his maximum. Shane lingers his now-free limps beside the believer, then answer his hug. Ryan’s face lands on his collar, wetting the material there with his tears.  
  
His words melting together as his body does to Shane. He squeezed Shane’s frame, the back of his shirt will be wrinkly after this.

As Ryan keeps mumbling inaudible nonsenses mix with kitten-like sobs, Shane presses his nose on the smaller’s still damp hair, whispering back. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Ryan”

That's all he has to hear. Maybe it’s because of Shane’s low and delicate voice, maybe it’s the sound of soothing rain, maybe of the alcohol tears staining on his cheeks, maybe Ryan just too tired of overthinking.

Ryan gives in, he trusts every syllable wholeheartedly, he counts on it. His grip softens to a hug and he let go of Shane afterward. Ryan's exhausted body got tugged in, he’s too sleepy to notice any of Shane’s next movements. He’s just so content, so relieved to know that Shane’ll stay with him. Shane will stay with him. He will.

Ryan Bergara believes in ghost and he believes in Shane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!
> 
> Sorry but I take a break of this fic so I can work on some of my one shorts ˊ3ˋ If you want to continue this fic instead of the others let me know!


	9. kissing over the coffee you're pouring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get you a friend like TJ that helps you confess your bi ass to your crush ⊃´-`⊂
> 
> "Wish You Were Gay" by Claud  
(https://youtu.be/aOLEVib6rjw)
> 
> Trigger warning: Close to suicide attempt  
"I won't trade four roses for your heart  
I won't wait forever in the dark"

His grip loses around the object. It slides, disappears out of the warm of his palm. Whatever it was, it was tepid, glowing. He kinda wants it back. Flung his arms around, only a vacancy answer his craving. Did it dissolve? Or did it flows away? He doesn’t know. The coldness is surrounding his frame. He’s suffocating in water. His legs move around hollowness, can’t appear to find an outer. He’s panicking, heartbeat loud in his ears.

Why did he let go?

He opens his mouth, only to get choked by the void. The air is so thin here. It takes all of his courage to open his eyes. He can see it, the thing, the item he just gives away.  
  
He reaches the aurora but it fades away before he can say goodbye.

\-----

Ryan woke up in the afternoon. When it’s at 4 pm.  
  
Dashes of sunlight run lines on the hotel wooden floor. He’s covered in blankets, face half lying on the pillow. There’s the familiar smell of coffee in the air. The drink that has enough milk and sugar, all intermingle with water that has enough temperature to drink right out of the porcelain mug. The caustic and nippy flavor rest on your tongue and sometimes find it’s way back to your taste buds throughout the day.

Only Shane knows that recipe.

Ryan props himself up with one hand, blinking away the stars dancing on the back of his eyelid. God, how many times has he fallen asleep crying? The slumber was deep and pleasant enough to be aching pounding in his head the next day.

For a moment, he just sits there. Taking the energy he supposed to get after a hibernation. Outlining the rays of light on the ground, his dazzle brain seemed to get themself working again. His heart feels full, it questions him. ‘What happened last night?’  
  
Looking at his phone charging by the bedside, he realizes this isn’t his room. The atmosphere is suddenly unfamiliar, new. He looks to his right, eyeing the neat furniture and fancy decorations. Yep, this is definitely not his house. ‘Shit’. He’s not the type of frat boy in college who crashes at a stranger’s place like this, not anymore.  
  
Ryan was about to awkwardly unplug his phone and leave whatever poor soul have to deal with him yesterday. Until he hears tip tap behind his back, the sincere tone welcomes him. “You up buddy?”  
  
Shane’s there with a cup in his hand, the steam from it flows out like a small chimney. He wants to sense the water vapor on his numb face. A shadow of stubble darkened Shane’s jaw, his hair is combed neatly, ‘Is that fucking gel?’, enough to notice his glimmering eyes. Ryan was admiring the ornate clothes when Shane continues. “You were pretty fucked last night,” He said with a comforting smile, Ryan can feel his cheeks heat up as the memories flood in.  
  
The car, the piggyback ride, the crying.

Ryan intending to do some explaining of the embarrassing action, until another figure come to his sight. Sara is there behind Shane, with a sparky silvern dress. It’s above the knee, strapless and a bit tulle. That’s all he knows about fashion but it certainly goes together with Shane’s suit. Not close to the last time he saw them but they’re still fitting. Well suited and perfect.

He feels more misplace being on the island of blankets now.

“You alright Ryan?” She asks with the same tender tone, Christ, he can not hate her if he tries. Sara doesn’t even _ know _ that her new co-worker’s old partner is being all angsty and spiteful about something that isn’t his. Yet she still cares and thoughtful in these situations. Ryan clears his throat, cut off the eye contact. “Yeah, I’m fine”  
  
Shane empties his coffee with a fond smile. “There’s yours on the table, Ry” the man give out before turning back, his calmness is alarming. Did last night was a fever dream he just made up or Shane is completely fine with it? The downward eyes he receives is possibly evidence. Shane never gets worked up with a panic Ryan before, even in the Sallie house. He just calms him down and everything back in their place. Shane continues being Ryan’s treatment, they don’t talk bout it.

There are only Ryan and his innocent opponent in the silent room. The sound of Shane in the kitchen somehow makes it more tensed for him. What does he say? Oh ‘I’ve been crushing on this tall idiot and even if he doesn’t know he’s mine now fuck off’?

Perhaps, maybe.

“So” Sara breaks the tension “You’re ok?”. Ryan blinks.  
  
“Yea-h, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Shane said you almost got hit by a car”  
  
“Oh”  
  
“Are you hurt anywhere?”  
  
“No, I’m alright. I’m-. It’s fine”  
  
The sheepishness creeping on his spine. Did Shane _ really _ have to say that? While figuring out how to remove Sara’s worried attention on him, he glazes over the second bed. Something hit him.

“You sleep here last night?” Fuck, he sounds like a creep.

“Yep. Easier for us to keep up with the events” _ Fuck_, now he sounds like an idiot. Of coursed Shane would book a twin room for them, they’re having a whole weekend working with each other. Apprehend he has taken a bed with his unconscious body yesterevening, he shifts his legs to distract him from the mortification.

“Where did Shane sleep then?”  
  
“He took the couch” Sara cocks her head to the sofa. It was undoubtedly not comfy enough for the big guy. Tingle of guilt paddle by his stomach.

Shane came back then, handing Sara her purse. She cheerily accepts it by throwing the strap over her shoulder, the handbag sits elegantly by her waist. Ryan wasn’t sure what was going on. His best friend makes his way to the door, hand in hand with Sara as he turns the handle. “You’re coming too?” His expression is somewhat hopeful. “It’s with the office this time”. “There’s pizza” Sara adds.  
  
Oh, right. After the after-party.

Ryan look at the two, ignores how his chest tighten. Yes, there is enough time for him to put on his more polite clothes yesterday, instead of wearing Shane’s old sweater. Yes, they will wait for him by the doorway. Yes, they will all walk down the main room together and have a fun, jazzy time. But looking at how Shane’s soul case at hand with Sara, his inner blossom something else.

‘They don’t need you’

“No” He takes hold of the white blanket, discerns Shane’s stare on his skin. “I’m a bit tired so, I think I’ll just rest a bit. You just. Just do what you gotta do” Ryan lowers his head, closing his eyes. He half expects Shane to jump over, to yell at him, asking ‘why’. To carry him into his arms like the day before and throws him down the main hall. He might close the door, stay and sit back with Ryan on the bed, tell Sara to go without him, or he could just-  
  
“Ok”  
  
Leave.

The doorknob jingles and close with slightly too much force. They’re out of the capacity when Ryan peer up, leaving him in the gelid room. The afternoon’s sunlight sounds sharper and raw on the floor. He lays back down, covers himself with the layer, the only comfort he can find right now. It’s like when he was a child, when the nightmares spread its fingers around his throat, makes his eyes wide open till morning. The tenderness of his bed warp around his rigid body. This is not a dream however, this is what he just did to himself sober.  
  
What did he just do? He just got cockblocked by himself.

Ryan could have accepted the helping hand, proving Shane that he still his friend no matter where he stayed, get a chance to fix the mess last few days. Hell, even _ receive _ more treatment, Shane is always there for him to hold on to, no matter how needy and clingy he is. He has missed the only two parties Shane has before he goes while Shane was there for him in every side project and meet up. Shane was there when he was out screaming at the zephyr and creaky furniture. Shane was there when he couldn’t sleep at nights, just because his mind is creating scenarios which is downright _idiotic._ There’s always a line between giving and take. This time, this time Ryan has taken too much from the man.

This longing hunger for touch, for a peck on the cheek, for wanting to be something more burdensome in his upper body, holding him down from going after Shane. The friend has seeded the glimmer of love and passion for Unsolved, not knowing another root has settled inside Ryan. He could drink in Shane’s ridiculous one-lines like a strong wine and enjoy feeling tipsy. He watched Shane talk about his hotdog story like he had the stars in his freckles and soft petals on his fingertips. He wanted to wrap that six feet four inches in his arms and never let go.

There was a tempting, enticing of his subconscious that’s honeyed than Shane’s invitation, tarter than the cold cup of coffee in the other room.

They just too _good,_ with their show, their matching clothes, their dynamics. How can Ryan even reach to that? Being the perfect half for Shane is something he thought he has _been,_ but he never _was._ When there’s a duo, the popularity and admirers meant to be even, level with each other. However, Ryan knew he wasn’t enough. It’s just right there, in the comment sections, on the memes, by their social sites. He was just too blind by Shane and his stunning ability on the show that he forgot to realize chopsticks can’t be mismatched.

His eyes land on the suitcase by the other bedside, the yellow towel dangling from its zip line. A frown touches him at the sight. It’s just, sitting there, doing nothing, being a towel. Yet, the object like a sting in his eyes.

Ryan drags the blanket over his skin and stays that way. Blocking the view by its cotton material, the smell of novel sinking in, submerged him with feathering weight. Yet he couldn’t bother to push it away. He didn’t cry this time, nor the last time at his empty apartment. He didn’t study to be a psychologist or anything but from the movies he has seen in his film school, he deems to let out some tears.

Instead, it’s just, blank. A complete void, hollow with emotions Ryan couldn’t describe. He doesn’t want to get up. He doesn’t want to move at all. The blanket is like a strain, deaden him, suffocates him in the middle of the most delicate bed. And at that moment it takes all the strength he has to make a good choice, to reach for an oxygen tank and take a breath. He didn’t. Not after a minute, an hour, or maybe it was just seconds. There weren’t any clocks around here.

Ryan’s breathing becomes shallow, there can only be too much air in this cocoon. His mind becomes fuzzy, the dark silky blanket eats him whole, splitting his brain off his head. On the verge of shutting off, his subconscious whisper in his ear.

‘If I die here, they wouldn’t know’

Taunted up faster than he could manage, Ryan quickly throws the barrier aside, taking sharp inhales, gasping in the open air that he pretends he didn’t need. His lungs is raging from the pressure he is taking, almost collapse like himself just a second before. ‘What the fuck?’

Ryan never, he didn’t, he isn’t- He. Look, Ryan has read enough about suicide cases and getting his view in the victims’ shoes. It’s what he does, it’s his _job._ And, maybe it can keep him up at night thinking of the theories, the reasons _ why _ they did it in True Crime seasons. But he never considered himself in need of any psychologically medical care. Yes, maybe the fans got worried for Shane when he held the silence a bit too long when they talk about 'dying' and 'not wanting to live' and, yet he still here, cracking hotdog jokes on their set. Ryan didn't read into that, not even saying to himself. It’s not necessary for a twenty-eight years old ghost hunter. Especially when he can take care of himself.

...Alright, maybe.

With the stars fading away from his vision and breathing in sync with his heart, his phone innocently flashing a notification light. It’s dark now, the room somehow colder with blueness. Ryan reaches out, cause that seemed like the only thing to do at this point. 5:37 pm, his lock screen reads.

Swiping up, his display flooded with a carnival of bright color. It’s the crew’s message group and TJ is online. Pictures showing the downstair’s main area, the ornaments is majestic, balloons, a large banner over the room and party table full of champagnes, meals. More of a farewell party than re-opening an internet show in Ryan’s opinion. And then there’s Shane, standing next to Sara, smiling. He can almost hear the familiar chuckle from those perfect teeth and hard jawbone. Too busy admiring his crush, Ryan didn’t notice TJ saw his green light symbol.   
  


Teej: @Ryguy

Teej: Ryan

Teej: Ryan I can see you. Don’t leave on seen you jackass

Teej: Dude

Ryan turns off his phone, his eyes prickle with soreness. Technological light in the dark is not good for your sight, kids. Holding his device in his hand, Ryan questions his existence and about to warp his body up again. Until TJ sends him a private text.

Teej: Ryan

Welp, if his assistance is this eager to call him out, he should just spoil it.

Ryguy: what’s up man  
  
Teej: Don’t ‘what’s up’ me. You know what is up

Ryguy: what? what’s up?

From the other side of the screen, he can sense the man’s disappointed stare.

Teej: You and Shane. That’s what up

Ryguy: explain

Teej: That’s my line

Ryguy: mmhm, and?

Teej: Ryan  
  


A warning.

Teej: You’ve been avoiding Shane. Twice. This is his last party and you can’t come down cause you’re ‘sick’?

Ryguy: yes

Teej: I’m gonna go up there and bring you down myself

Ryguy: i’d like to see you try

He left on seen.

Just a moment later, there’s steps and a knock on his door. To answer Ryan’s silence, it opens right away. TJ is there, he’s wearing a light tuxedo, his hair is all over the place. Despite the alcohol spreading pink hue on his cheeks, his sharp gaze left Ryan speechless on the bed. “Alright you shit”

He closes the entrance and hovers in, with every long stride, the atmosphere became more acute, thick with the confetti falling off his shoulder. He stood tall in front of Ryan, tower-ing the man who didn’t move his observation from his socks. TJ spare a good second to study his condition, definitely not sick.

“Ryan,” he says, intensely. “What’s wrong with you and Shane?”

Watching the phone dancing from his hand to another, he feels like being grounded by his parents. TJ moves over and drops down next to him, weight down the mattress. He hasn’t caught his eyes yet. Without knowing the situation, TJ always knows what to speak.

“Look. I know it’s not fun for you that Shane is leaving. But, it’s only for a month. It’s not like he gonna vanish. Unsolved is still operating”

Ryan found a way to unscrew his mouth.  
  
“How can you be so sure?” the friend shot him a fixed look. He can’t read TJ most of the time, but his dark eyes tell a lot. Confusion.

“What-. You think he’ll just… leave?”

Ryan’s sentence sounds more like a confession.  
  
“Yeah”  
  
TJ exhale, his dramatic sigh brought him down to the bedsheet. He ‘thump’ on his back, facing the ceiling, letting his hands rest on his stomach. They’re wet from the drinks Ryan figured. Without anything better to do, he lays down next to him too. They share a calm silence bit.

“You guys have been friends for almost five years now. When Shane said he will come back, he will come back. Even we believe that, Ryan”

“It’s not that easy to just. Listen”

TJ turns his head over, his scrutinize sizzle Ryan’s neck. He held that position for just a second, before giving up and meet TJ. He looks angry. And Ryan has seen him pissed off over traffic before.

“There’s something happening huh?” Ryan gulps. Fuck, he’s pretty serious for a drunk person. Ryan groans in his palm, muffle his whimper. He doesn’t have the balls to look at his co-worker again. The smell of beer fading in the air.

“How did you know?”

“You’ve been giving him heart eyes on every set. Even Mark notices it”

Well shit, it was _that_ obviously didn't it?

TJ is still staring at him with a dull expression. But he understands Ryan's limits. "You can keep it to yourself, I'm not forcing"

Ryan's vision threatens to blur with tears again.

“I- It’s just-. He isn’t interested in me you know? And, he isn’t gay. He- I’m just so _scared._ He’s moving away, with- with Sara and they are _ perfect _ while I’m just a burden. I- I kept. He’s so much _ better _ than me and I’m just holding him back but- _ I love him,_ I fucking love him and-”

His voice breaking with every syllable he tries to vomit out. Confirming love has been a hard thing to do, you can’t just_ say _ that you’re in love. And here’s Ryan have a go on pouring his dumb crush out like he was 10. TJ didn’t mind, he places a bone-chilling pat on Ryan’s shoulder, saturated by small water drops, probably from holding his iced cup.

They sprawl out on the bed like that, until Ryan’s breath is even out and TJ sits him up, drawing circles behind his back. The strong movement reminded Ryan of Shane. “Hey”

Ryan looks over, TJ expression softens and filled with sympathy, that’s the most emotion he saw on the man’s face. “The party still carries on till midnight. Maybe, you can have a chance”

Ryan breaths “What if he says no?”

TJ shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. “You think he’ll leave forever right? If you're so determined with your theories- this is your only chance to tell him”

"Plus," He stares off, thoughtful. “I’ve seen you guys enough to tell it’s gonna be fine. Ghoul boys remember?”

He stood up as he says, cocks his head at the guitar and Ryan’s dry clothes from yesterday sitting on the chair. The corner of the room lights up around them.

“You’ve taken an oath”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!
> 
> Yep, I'm back with this trackヽ(◉◡◔)ﾉ


	10. you're happier, aren't you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the after-party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Happier" by Ed Sheeran  
(https://youtu.be/iWZmdoY1aTE)
> 
> Guys, I've made a Spotify playlist for all of the songs! (づ￣ ³￣)づ (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5UKrqpPPuMh3sKlw2SzjzO?si=iK1zD1-gT5uIoEz8pAc_iA)  
"'Cause baby you look happier, you do  
My friends told me one day I'll feel it too  
And until then I'll smile to hide the truth
> 
> Just know that I’ll be waiting here for you"

Ryan’s heart is beating next to his ears.

TJ was nice enough to wipe a cold towel over his dead face and help him throw on his clothes. His jacket still dammed from the aftermath, looks like the air-conditional weren’t used for drying. It clings to his t-shirt inside, making an unbearable mess on his wasted body.

Despite the indisposed of physical, his mind got online with each step he makes down the hallway. Pushing back the questionable thoughts before, he knows what to say and how to act in front of Shane again. He’ll just go ‘Hey man sorry for the past few days I’ve been a douchebag and missing out two biggest events of your career but now I’m here and I’m sorry’ then everything will be in place for him to get rip of this stupid crush. Done! Even better than laying out his alien theories.

TJ offers his wingman service regardless of how the beer is getting to him, his Adam apple drops minutely, ready to cough up whatever the night has invited him. But he claimed his intentions by leading first, keeping a firm pace for Ryan’s legs to catch up with the guitar by his side. No, he’s not gonna play yet _ another _ Hot Daga song. One is enough.

The two got in the elevator, stays in comfortable silence. Ryan knows that the knots in TJ’s stomach don’t want to befriend right now.

It wasn’t like those Disney movies where the guy meet the girl on the staircase and she looks drop-dead gorgeous in the prom dress with all of the lighting and slow effects. No. This is the story of Ryan’s life with a 5$ budget and a Windows’ slide show.

People barely notice them as TJ pushes through the clear glass door. The ceiling lights cast a golden filter on his view, the smell of food flowing over the sea of guests. ‘There will only our co-workers there’ he said. ‘Totally no employees from the other company will be there’ he said. Ryan brushes the anxiety off his shoulders and focuses on the decorations instead, it was even more breathtaking in person. It was like a historical ballroom base on the phantasy trimming on the walls as strays of brilliance project over the statuettes. It was Shane’s party, after all, a history lover’s wet dream.

He awkwardly tail-ing TJ, looking like a kid with his father at the workplace. He was mumbling ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s for his guitar, which was irrefutable not suitable for this. The dark color of the bag stands out too much, Ryan can aware of the looks on his skin. Or maybe, even worse, they’re looking at _ him _.

‘You think you’re _ that _ photogenic, Ryan?’

He tries his best to hide behind TJ’s taller frame until they meet up with the crew. Devon and Kelsey are chattering over the rim of their drinks, getting to each other over the sounds of loud music in the background. Mark is exchanging with some assistance from the Chicago’s headquarters, they look friendly. Ryan hopes they’ll take care of Shane as good as they were.

Timidly, he holds on to the guitar’s strap again, realizing that he got no purpose of being here. This was all about Ruining History, not Unsolved. The crew is here to provide some information about how Shane works and carry the old set’s equipment to move. So what is _ Ryan _ doing here?

A part of him certain that none of the folks even perceive his present. Who would? But that darker sense in his left brain, telling him, giving him the insecure that twinge his pinkish cheeks. Letting his imagination cameras’ lens concentrate on him and his forlorn being. He doesn’t belong here, he doesn’t _ need _ to be here.

TJ has been standing next to him and sipping a cup of water to clean up the mess in his throat. The man is slightly dazzled from the atmosphere but clear-headed at Ryan’s panic. He caresses the back of Ryan’s neck, petting the wiry hair there with slow strokes. “You still sure?”

It takes a moment.

“I’m just, kind of nervous”

“It’ll be ok”

Ryan kills time by taking a chalice of red wine. It was stronger than he can take but it drowns out the voices in his head. So he kept going, kept going. Soon after, he sees Shane at the corner of his eyes while talking with Kelsey. The alcohol definitely didn’t create this fantasy.

Shane is standing there under the tow-colored frame and he alone stabbed Ryan in the heart. His pale skin is like peaches-and-cream from the lights, a deep blush on his face as he speaks. There’s tiredness printed under those eyes but he’s not letting them get to him, strong hands movement keep him in the conversation.

If that wasn’t enough, Sara was next to him with her appealing dress, the yellow curs swaying on her forehead as she nods in agreement at something they said. They laugh then, loud and booming in Ryan’s sight. He glads Shane is enjoying the party without him but-

They look_ happy_.

Both smiles are twice as wide as they were in a bit, after Ryan tell a joke, when they read a strange suggestion on Q&A. He doesn’t dare to think that Shane was putting a face on for the sake of comedy. Yet, his snicker now is genuine. Honest-to-God euphoric on his face. Ryan can’t blame on the beers.

Shane straightens himself when he meets Ryan. Somewhat surprises seeing his best friend from the crowd.

Ryan just stands there, drinking his frame above everybody else. It feels like the air has been thrown out of the room, there are nails holding him in the spot while Shane eyeing him. Something chokes his throat as Sara does the same, giving him a questionable stare. The grip on his strap tightens.

TJ pat on his shoulder, a silence signal as he moves from his place, wobble a bit. He meets the other two in the middle, starting a discussion with Sara. Once he got her attention on some cat coffee shop, he turns to Shane and cocks his head to Ryan’s direction. His heart missed a beat when Shane instantly go toward him.

This is it then.

Shane hurriedly makes his's way over the walls of flesh, his long legs get him out of a tight spot literally. Ryan only moves when he got closer, not making eye contact. Alright, he can do this. “Ryan! You made it!”

Embarrassing since Ryan wasn’t even _ really _ tired.

“Couldn’t miss out” He smiles.

“You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m good now”

“Yesterday was a breaker,” Shane said, in a flat tone. “You _ sure _ you don’t need another hug?” Ryan’s face heats up. ‘So he _ does _ remember’

His hand hovers up and down the truss across his chest as his statement come out weakly. “Shut up Shane”. Now is a good time to ask if last night was too weird-

The sound of an opened champagne in the distance got Shane’s heed, he whirls his top at the source.  
  
Only now Ryan peeps up, let himself take in the sight of the man. His stubble darkens the lines of his jaw. There’s rosy florid over his tall nose, making his cheeks stand out and spread to his collarbone. Under the shimmering cristal chandelier, he looks like a well-sculpted statue, standing tall and drop-dead gorgeous. After years of being just friends, training himself to keep his feeling close. The heats in his chest wanted to touch him right there, pull him down to a kiss, let the other hand play with his hair and discover all the corners he hasn’t tasted.

His aurora is so beautiful.

There’s another sound, high-pitched and sting his auricle with needles. A mic was connected to the speakers, getting everyone’s observation included the two friends. The music player was saying something, ‘volunteers’ and ‘song’ are the only words he can catch before Shane’s hand find his tangled ones. It happened too fast for him to realize how warm and big his grip is around him. How it makes him small and perfect being inside the larger’s sturdy hold.

There wasn’t a stage but it’s in the middle of the ballroom, where every single person can see them. Only now, Ryan can’t give a fuck. He’s with Shane, he’s here.

Shane removes his grasp to catch a pair of wireless microphones thrown in their direction. Ryan didn’t register the situation. Not until the first heavy bassed beat jump out of the tweeters and swinging with the taps of Shane’s shoes. “Fuck” he muttered when Devon pulls out her phone and Mark gives him a wink.

“I've been cheated by you since I don't know when” Shane’s voice is filtered through the air, now everyone’s eyes is _ definitely _on them.

He continues, not caring if Ryan is stock-still with his mic. “So I made up my mind, it must come to an end” Shane pushes his shoulder, pleasing in his eyes.

With a second of hesitation, Ryan gets his guitar out, throwing the empty bag to the side along with the unneeded mic. Getting paid with loud gasps along with Shane’s amazed gaze, he takes a deep breath, sensing the scent of music and getting into the notes as he strung the strings with confident. If this is the last time he gets to sings with Madej, so be it.

“Look at me now, will I ever learn?

I don't know how but I suddenly lose control”

They mixed, pitches blending until there’s a middle ground for both. Their voice will be hoarse after this but they don’t care. It has been so long since they hang out like this again, being themselves, the idiots who dreamed to catch ghosts and demons. There’s this flare in Shane’s eyes every time, the bliss of just being with Ryan. It’s palpable, on the surface of boxed pizzas, the material of their merch shirt, in the air of summer night. Now it’s here, right and authentic. True as their friendship.

Then, then Ryan realizes. He doesn’t want this to end. His love is not enough to replace _this._ The consequences of his confession aren’t enough to offer this away. This reality of being with Shane, with this human being that fascinated with hotdogs story and cats. Ryan doesn’t want it to ever end.

When the final strung brings them down, handclaps and cheers fling them up. He notices TJ’s look on him too, it doesn’t need to say further over the noisy audience.

‘You gonna keep it in?’ He cocks his head.

Ryan nods. ‘We’ve taken an oath’

As the bravos dying out, Ryan set his guitar back to where it belongs and gives it a pat. ‘Good work buddy’. Shane offers him a drink, the sleazy sweat on his forehead agrees. They got back to the crew. Mark was laughing cause, God, fantastic footage was taken. He can barely keep it to himself neither, it’s definitely a cursed video.

The emotions weren’t though. It was blessed. It was still bubbling in his stomach, as he has just gone down a rollercoaster. It sits on the tip of his tongue after the third ‘cheer!’ and Shane’s hand accidentally touches his. It hid inside the guitar bag, lighter now on his shoulders when TJ lands a playful punch. It crosses his mind with warmth and reddens his already alcohol-heated face when Shane makes fun of his height, typical banter. It blooms in his rips if Hanahaki was just a stream of affection as Shane’s laugh echoes by his ears.

“Hey, Ryan,” Shane said, out of the blue. Ryan stares up, Shane appearance is nice in this angle, and the other angles.

He stops himself, finding a way to piece his sentence. “Teej said you’re… worried. That I’ll leave”

Ryan raises his eyebrows. “Leave as in. _Leave._ That I’m never coming back”

Thank God his flushed face is covered by beer right now, he’s like a blushing tomato.

“Just-” Shane stare directly at him, staring down his soul. “I _ promise _ I’ll-”

Suddenly, the lights dim. He thought it’s because of electricity but the slow flow of piano and violin cuts through. It’s no longer bright and merry, the blue illumination creates a whole different scene. The calm beats drip around the dancefloor, drawing couples by couples to join the phlegmatic calm. Kelsey tapped on Sara’s back while she finishes her drink. Ryan frown.

“Shall we?”

He turns, missed out on Shane’s acceptance, only sees the two hand-in-hand walking up to join other lovebirds.

He watches them out of the corner of sight, not trusting himself to get a full view. Will he hurt again? Will the pain ebbs to his bones? Will he cry?

Curiosity won after all.

His cup shaking gently in his hand, the air conditional blows a cold whistle down his back. He could only hear the steady beat of the slow romantic song screaming in his ears. Sara’s head rested on Shane’s chest as they swayed to the rhythm, he doesn’t know if they trying to crack him or not at this point. They aren’t taking this seriously, at how Shane keeps stumbling with Sara’s high heels and the way his eyes winkers when they smile, they couldn’t be.

But, it looks official. They do fit like the rest of the twosomes. They fit together like a puzzle piece.

Or maybe it because Ryan has seen Shane’s Waltz moves before, from a random bit. At how his long legs can take a further step compare to any other normal human being. How they were doing it five feet apart like some nerds. How Ryan could’ve easily been the person Shane’s holding.

They close their eyes, letting the romantic euphony flood over. Ryan takes a seat, cause he might as well past out right now. He tries his best not to think, as he peers down the cup of crimson drink he no longer cared. His hands trembling with swallow breath.

‘It’s over Ryan. Stop. Just stop’

He knows, he understands, he’s familiar with it like the Hot Daga storyline. Shane is happy, Sara’s happy, everyone is happy. As long as he can just cherish their friendship instead of daydreaming about touches, everything will be in its place. Then everything will be how it used to.

Everything will be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!
> 
> OwO but what's this?! Bonus songs!
> 
> The song the boys sang, which I think most of you have guessed. "Mama Mia" by ABBA  
1\. Shane sang it in one of their investigation. Iconic moment  
2\. They sang it at Vidcon one year.  
3\. That one Instagram story from Ryan and this cover was in the background  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kewXtkGmDtw)
> 
> The song Sara and Shane was dancing to is "Engagement Party" by Justin Hurwitz  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXuDj8mGp14&t=4s)


	11. i'm not goin' down that easily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bad guy showed up. A fight happened.
> 
> "Don't bring up the investigators, bring up the ambulance"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Don’t Give Up on Me" by Andy Grammer  
(https://youtu.be/ouEezpuPc3A)
> 
> Trigger warning: A homophobic person said inappropriate stuff + fistfight  
"I will fight, I will fight for you  
I always do until my heart is black and blue  
And I will stay, I will stay with you  
We'll make it to the other side like lovers do"

Ryan is holding his drink with two hands now, still shaking. He just prays that there are no one notices.

He clings to the rim of the glass, not wanting to look up.

TJ is talking to Mark and Kelsey, Devon went to get another drink. The various sounds of utensils is sharp in his ears, cutting his brain in half. Drinking vessel knocks together, creating a rhythm stir with music notes. The pattern on the ceiling emits light, a colorful daybreak show. Shades of ultramarine from the deep ocean reassurance the tears threatening to fall. The room spins around him, it’s like he’s watching Neptune spread it’s placating upon the stick in his eyes.

Shane is holding Sara’s hand now, her delicate ones warp up in Shane’s pale fingers. She’s teaching him the slow dance. Shane bobs his heads with every guide, his soft lips curve around a smile with every step they make.

No part of Ryan blamed Sara. She was just like him, wanted to have fun with the sasquatch of the office. She didn’t even _ know _ this ridiculous crush Ryan have. And, even if she did, it’s Ryan’s fault not to make the last step to the finish line. Right?

Ryan tips his head back, empty his last drops. He hasn’t touched any foodstuffs. Which, can’t be healthy since all he had from the past days was alcohol. He impressed with his self-care skills.

There’s the smell of smoke that meets his nose, making his eyes waters even more. There’s a sharp voice behind his back. “Yeah I know right? Some cunt”

Ah yes, the only thing missing here is a drunk offensive man to ruins Ryan’s night. He didn’t care at first, still too focusing doing… nothing. Then there are figures behind his chair. Ryan is sitting close to the windows and an entrance, so it must be some guests that were leaving.

“His middle name is ‘_Alexander_’ for fuck sake” ...Ok? there’s a lot of people that have the same middle name- “‘Madej’? Sounds like ‘Ma-_gay_’”

Laughter, Ryan placed his cup on the table and take a look behind his shoulder. Some long blonde-haired man wearing a fancy tuxedo, holding an electronic cigarette between his fingers. What kind of person smokes inside when there’s exit feet away?

Before Ryan can even pay his disturbed, another person on the left has done it for him. “You know he’s not gay right?” Ah, well, yeah. Ryan had that theory before. Thank you very much, random stranger.

“That faggot clearly is”

The words slap him to the face. Ryan is suddenly sensible, more alive as he focused on the man’s scheme.

“Like… have you _seen_ that makeup video? Christ, even on Ruinnin’ he’s wearing a fucking eardrop” The man waves his cigarette around, clouds of reek submerge the area. Ryan can see the distress on his friends’ faces. “Can’t believe _ we _ ’re dealing with that now”

Oh, fuck. He’s from the other headquarter. The one Shane’s moving to.

Without thinking, Ryan found himself on his feet. It’s not a good idea, no. Shane can go anywhere, everywhere now, he doesn’t need Ryan’s assistance when Sara’s there anymore. Blonde-head probably will get shits if he even dares to say that in front of Shane.

But the other part, the raging part of how this weirdo can start saying these things, without working with Shane first day yet. The irate part of wanting nothing more to protect his best friend from lunatics like this. The more aggressive part in his biceps’ bloodstream, telling him to score this fucker’s face, like Lebron James in that match back in-

Ok, concentrate Ryan.

He makes his presence in front of the man, starting with a polite voice, not wanting to be any offensive. “Um, _ pardon _ me, sir?” He almost laughs. The other man surveys him with an annoyed look, his other co-workers back away a bit. Did they know him? “Can you go outside and smoke, please? We don’t have health insurance for guests that will have lung cancer”

Blondy opened his mouth, only to be cut off by a friend leaning to his ear, whispering inaudible. Whatever it was, the guy let out a pity laugh and shove the messenger away, standing up. And- shit, he was taller than Ryan expected. He wasn’t close to Shane’s height, but it gives him enough of an insecure as the man towering over him. However, Ryan stands his ground, crossed his hands cause he knows how his biceps can flex.

“Ryan Ber eh? Angsty that you lost your boyfriend there?” He pushes Ryan on the chest, enough force to make him take a step back. “Don’t play that gentleman shit with me, I’ve seen you”

Another push “What you got ‘believer’? You think you’re tough now without your 'big guy'?”

He holds his hands up, an innocent gesture. It takes all of his mental power to not make the move inflexible. “Hey man, I’m not-”

Another push. “Shut the fuck up cunt. Your babysitter isn’t here to back you up anymore. He’s ours”

Ryan breathes through his nose. Ok, this guy is- possessive. And he was just dishing the dirt seconds ago. Yep, totally because of that. Not because Ryan wants to have Shane, yep, nope, absolutely not.

He balances himself, closes the gap between them, hands still out with a defense state. “Look, I’m not looking for trouble. I’d be appreciated if you don’t talk about Shane like that”

The other’s eye was on him now, he’s pretty sure this was gonna cost a scene, but not big enough to draws the entire loving dance floor over there. Ryan can’t feel the trembling of his anxiety in his knees anymore, it’s buried under his exasperation. He was and he always will, gonna fight for Shane’s justice. Whether or not it’s on the internet or in person.

As a friend.

“Oh no, protective boyfriend” The guy tips his head, pointing the forgotten cigarette on the pins on his jacket, the ‘Unsolved’ one specifically. The exhaust are close enough to melt the color layer off, Ryan tries not to flinch. “You’re nothing with that show alright? Just leave the demon boy to us and we’ll take care of him. Go and warp up your bitchy attitude”

“He’s not my boyfriend” It hurts him more than he thought “We’re just friends”

“Look, ghost boy” He set a hand on the nape of Ryan’s neck. His grip is solid even with sweat, his thumb press under his windpipe, making him dizzy. “I’ve been so mad at your shit on that fucking show. Shane is a golden magnet, that’s why you’re standing here, alright? Without him? You’re nothing”

Ohhh, so this guy, and that headquarter- They wanted Shane for _fame._ Yet, there are these homophobic that _ work _ there? Shane isn’t gay but- Oh God wow, wow this is some comedy cliche right here. Ryan has the sudden urge to smirk.

“Base on the fact you even _ needed _ him, you’re not so valuable yourself”

The male snatch on his shirt, tearing the cotton on his shoulder. Ryan hears the threads being rips in the other’s boiling eyes. He doesn’t move.

“You be careful with your mouth there ghost hunter. You don’t wanna mess with me”

“What if I do?”

Their nose is almost touching now, the air strained. Ryan has to balance himself on tiptoe.

“You’re fucking selfish trying to keep the spotlight for yourself and your nonsense show. You’ve read the comments, you know who the fans _truly_ love. Keep the fucking cringy jokes to yourself. He hates you for it. Now he finally got the chance to escape your hell, you still want to hold him back? He. Doesn’t. Fucking. Need. You”

Blonde hair lands a punch on his chest with the other hand, steely, but it didn’t hurt. Ryan stumbles back but stays on his feet cooly. His mind numb. “Now you go and spend your precious time with that fag. Buy him a dress before he leaves yeah?”

That. That makes Ryan’s ethanol-soaked brain sees red.

He has been through it before, reading Shane’s hate criticisms on their videos. It was a small amount, nothing compared to what _ he _ has experienced. But, the fact that there are people out there, these individuals have the temerity to say substandard things to the literal angel that is his co-worker is _unforgivable._ Ryan clenches his fist, teeth grinding together. The wine and beer swimming in his veins, making every single nerve screech.

They can talk shits about his career, his dream Unsolved, even him. But never, never Shane.

“You don’t get to talk about him like that” He said, louder than intended. The man raises an eyebrow, notices what makes Ryan snap.

“Aw, is that what I think it is?” He lifted his tone in a mocking way, making goosebumps on the back of the listener’s neck. “Is our LA fag, in love with, the Chicago boy?”

“Shut your mouth”

“Oi! Hey, I think we got a nice revelation!” He turns to his friends, who are looking uncomfortable on their feet. He raises, no, shouted out. “Shane Madej got himself a bitch everyone-”

The first punch landed on the guy’s jaw, shutting him up. Ryan takes a handfull of the front shirt, tugging him down to his average height and gives another to the man’s five-o’clock-shadow. He thinks of every action movie, every scene of highschool drama where the bad guy bleeding on the floor. It fills him with hankering.

His muscles taut, rigid with every landing. Until the hold of support loosens, the other man wrestles back. The weight of the guitar bag combined with the sudden movement makes Ryan fall backward, he feels the instrument’s curves pressing against his tailbone. Staring up at the midnight blue ceiling, the back of his skull throbs. His legs is strangled by the other, his entire heaviness pins him down to the bone-chilling floor. He received steely hits on his chest, knocking out the air from his body. He wheezes from what he can find left in his throat but it doesn’t stop.

Then, the blonde guy came to view, with a crystal object. A wine bottle. It reflects the tints of cyan. The sanguine and indigo smolder in his sight. The advantager adjust his grasp, tilting the decanter over his shoulders. “This is why you don’t mess with me you gay-ass fucks”

Ryan toss and turn under his mercy, kicking his legs in hope of throwing the guy over. But he’s stuck, the bottom of his shoes can’t find a level to push him up. He stops moving, his hands knot to the tuxedo fabric, hopelessly trying to shove away. Ryan’s chest is still scalding with aggravation, pique makes his vision blind with droplets.

He closes his eyes, waiting for impact.

‘This is what you deserved’

Distantly, he hears footsteps. Long and heavy footsteps. Then, the mass holding his frame disappears.

Ryan makes an effort to see through the pounding in his head.

There are people surrounding him, he probably drags the entire dance floor here. Some dishes were pushed off from the table beside him, trailing the tablecloth along. Different moistures making a river system on the floor, foods blocking their path. Blondy buried his face in his hands, shaking gently, making like _ he_’s not the one just almost knock him out.

“Ryan?” a disbelieving voice followed his stand. Shane is standing there with Sara behind his end. TJ set a steady hand in front of Mark, keeping him beyond the spot with Kelsey and Devon. They all seemed sober, staring at Ryan with wide eyes, like he was a wild animal.

There are a couple of people drop-down next to the hurt guy, trying to pull his hands away from his face covered in bruises. Then, Ryan notice, there’s blood.

Dripping down from the injured’s nose, it fulvous, dribble down to his chin and on to his high-priced suit. He’s crying from what Ryan can see, but it doesn’t peter out the temper in his fist. If Ryan didn’t know better, he would’ve made a hole in this guy fake pauperized.

Voices ringing in his ears as he watches people help the bleeding man sits on a chair. Shane is speaking to the manager, asking for a medical checkup. An individual asked Shane to ‘have a talk’. Ryan knew he’s the boss from Chicago, base on the sorry attitude for his employee actions. Shane decline.

Ryan was too caught up in Shane’s unneeded apology that he didn’t realize he was being dragged outside, in his hands again. It was unlike the grip from before, more stiff, like he was trying to shatter Ryan. They walk out the exit with long strides, to the backyard. Ryan’s legs is almost gelly, but he still uses all of his strength left to follow Shane. His heartbeat missing rhythm, his stomach swims around alcohol and misplaced guilt. Like when his parents just caught him messing Jake’s toys when he was a kid.

There was a big garden, with various flowers blooming under bright stars. Scraping of the blades against their shoes, making a hymn with the crickets. A romantic atmosphere, if Ryan didn’t just break Shane’s future co-worker’s nose.

“Shane-”

“We need to talk”

Shane has these tones, that he would use logically in situations. Light and chirpy when he talks about his hot dog show, amiable to fans, firm and clear when he explains his opinions. But he never, never heard this pure annoyance in Shane’s subtle voice out of a bit before.

When Ryan fuck up, he really knows how to fuck up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	12. you’re so much better than that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication isn't key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wake Up" by EDEN  
(https://youtu.be/21EUVCNlW0s)
> 
> If it isn't obvious, I tried my best to show that both Shane and Ryan did a dumb-dumb, not just one another. And they're probably very drunk here too.
> 
> Basically the whole song but I think these will do:  
"Stay, you're not gonna leave me  
This place is right where you need to be  
And why your words gotta mean so much to them  
And they mean nothing to me?"

“What on earth did you do?” Shane flung his hand around, nails biting the inside of his palm. It’s freezing outside, Ryan’s unwithered jacket in sympathy with the howling current of air. “He was one of the employees from the headquarter. You _ know _ they could still turn me down right now”

“Shane, listen” Ryan cross his hand in an attempt to warm and steady himself, the aftermath of the fight still lingers “That guy was being an a-hole and he was saying these-”

“He was _ saying._ Not _ punching _ you in the face” 

“Yeah- no, but still. He was talking about-”

“_Ryan,_” he cuts him off firmly “I just wanted you to be there for my party. That’s it”

The gear in his brain turning, but it got stuck in the distracting mixture of Shane’s dark eyes and moving legs. His suit is easier on the eye under the night sky. The blush from the party still drawing shades of hues on his pale skin, right under his bloodshot peeper.

“I got out of the way for you alright? You don’t have to worry about me anymore” Shane’s tone flat.

“What do you mean?”

“It means that-” He sighs, a heavy breath knock out of his shoulders. Shane let his purposeless fingers draw circles on his forehead, like he can’t even bear to _ look _ at Ryan.

“I got out of the way between you and Unsolved now, you don’t have to hold me back”

Ryan’s eyes are wide.

“What?”

Shane tug on his hair, his expression jumpy. “I know that you wanted to grow your show by yourself for a while now. And, I can see that. I respect that opinion and I wouldn’t block your path anymore”

Ryan’s tongue sticks to the top of his mouth. “Wait, wait what? What do you mean _ I _wanted that? Aren’t we in this together?” It struck him like a rubber band on bare skin.

“Yes, we’re. It’s just that. I think it’s better for me to stay out of the show for once in a while to work on mine too”

“No- yes. I get that. But what do you mean you’re ‘in my way’? What the _ fuck _ Shane?” He’s screaming now, he didn’t know when. But all of these emotions, all of his fears and anger now spilling out of him like water. It comes pouring out of his shaking frame that he thought he might blackout “So you’re telling me this whole time you were just a cameo?”

“I’m not saying that” Shane slightly rises, still so calm at a hysterical Ryan “It’s- The company. The _company,_ Ryan. They treated me like a _ product _ ” He continues when he sees that the friend’s lips is glued shut “They wanted me to go on all of these videos that I didn’t want to- And then start dragging you along with it. They _ know _ how our fanbase worked. There’s us in the thumbnail and the views go up. Neither it’s on Kelsey’s play or on Multiplayer, they just- They treated us like some kind of _merchandise_. So, I figured- maybe it’s better for us to separate for some time”

It feels like all of his breath is knocked out of his lungs. As he stares at Shane’s rectitude face, he shakes his head gently, not believing what he just heard.

Shane is leaving, cause _ he _ thinks he should.

‘Cause you aren’t good enough for him’

“And so what? You just gonna spend a month away with Sara just gonna_ come back_?”

“Ryan-”

“No, no, no. Don’t ‘Ryan’ me. You’re not _ just a product._ You can still stay- You can still be here. I promise I’ll tell Buzzfeed about it. They could change the schedule for us I promise” He held his hands out, almost giving Shane all of his honesty that he could find in the bitter night. “Just don’t go, _please._ I can figure it out, I swear. Just don’t leave”

“As much as I wanted to stay, Sara already-”

“_F__uck you_” Ryan unwillingly spat out. His best friend is standing there, with his long limps pressing down his body. It takes a lot to get this man’s response in a grueling murder case or in a haunted house filled with demons. However, his downward eyelids are wide, showing the black marbles underneath his long eyelashes.

“What the...? Ryan, you told me we were fine literally on the first day ”

“Yeah but you didn’t tell me anything with Sara”

“Why does that matter so much? She helped me with the project-”

“Didn’t _ I _ help?”

“You did, you _did._ But you still got Unsolved to worry about”

“So I’m not a good friend that would give up my show to be with my friend’s one huh?”

“What, so this is what you’re been distance to me? Because of Sara? We're _friends_, what are you-"  
  
"Why can’t you just be happy for me?!” Shane yells, the sudden echo in the firmament, making the gusts of winds hold it’s breath. Ryan’s heart stopped with their movement “It’s my choice that I’m finally getting back to what I wanted to do. You have zero faults in that. But the real thing is- You wanted to be my good friend? Then at least _be there_ for my goodbye party and actually _stay._ I might have caught up with all of the people and all of the meetings. But even the crew were there and you think I might not notice, but I did. I didn’t see my best friend being there for the restart of my carrier. And that _ broke me,_ Ryan”

A sharp pang of misconduct easing into Ryan’s heart as he takes the words in. The aching of physical can’t distract him from the wrenching stab in his chest as he realizes his mistakes the past days. He was so self-centered that he forgot this is Shane’s storyline too, that Shane still expected him like a _friend._

To reply his shocked quiet, Shane shifts uncomfortably on his shoes, view stuck on everywhere except Ryan.

After what seemed like forever, he sees Mark waves from the inside of the building, his figure hazy through the glass of the window. He was pointing to Shane, asking them to come back in. The thought of someone sees their argument only makes Ryan sinks more to the spot. Shane exhales, heavy and exhausted “C’mon, let’s sorry to them”

It feels like he’s talking to a whole different person now. The lump in his throat blocking his voice, his statement comes out tiny, almost inaudible. “I just wanted to help” His vision waters.

“Well I didn't need it”

As he gets a load of Shane moving inside with extended steps, the words prick to his wounds like blades. It left him speechless while he stares them walking to the settled crowd and figure out how to apologies Ryan’s mess. Shane didn’t even look back twice.

‘He doesn't need you Ryan’

Ryan flees back to his apartment on foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	13. you took your suitcase, i took the blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Breakeven" by The Script
> 
> Really sorry for the slow update حᇂﮌᇂ) I'm trying to not disappoint your guys' hype.  
(https://youtu.be/MzCLLHscMOw)
> 
> Base on the number of comments on the last chapter, you guys are really into hurt!Ryan. Don't worry, me too ( ͡° ͜;ʖ ;͡°)  
"What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you?  
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok?"

The tip-tap of Ryan’s shoes against the pavement makes his fingertips dancing nervously on the strap of his guitar bag.

With every block he passes, he just wanted it to be his imagination playing with him, the alcohol frolic with his brain. With every turn he makes around the corners, he wishes it was just one big dream. With every mile he got away from the hotel, he arching to get back, to sorry for his actions, to explain himself to Shane.

He didn't.

There are hardly any cars around, only him strolling down the street, sometimes encounter a lone pedestrian. It was probably close to midnight. The buildings around are closed, set only their soft warming lights out of layered windows. They all look comfy, the flaxen illuminated reminds him of the ones at the party again, before Shane and Sara got off to dance, before Ryan meet that douchebag, before Shane dragged him to the garden.

Before the shades of blue smear his vision.

Ryan tries his best to focus on the pain in his chest, the lesion on his legs mixed with some moisture he landed on while fighting, wetting the hem of the already wettish leather jacket and jeans. Cgelid air painted more ice on his flesh, absorb through the thin layers of clothes. However, the bone hurting thoughts haunt his mind.

Shane couldn't have meant it, right?

The tone, the slight lift of his voice at 'well', it’s almost characteristic, he heard it a thousand times in movies. The heavy sonority at ‘didn’t’. And the final solid punch to his stomach at ‘need’. It could obviously about his unnecessary help, not him.

Yeah, of course it’s that. Not the overdramatic Ryan that has to make a scene out of something that can be easily solved by ignoring the trouble maker. Not the annoying Ryan that has killed the life of the party that expected to last for another two hours. The Ryan who can't even confess his crush because he’s afraid of breaking the friendship, that doesn't even exist up to this time. The Ryan that pushes people away just because he couldn't help his selfish being.

'He doesn't need you Ryan'

His legs tangled by his choke on a sob. It's embarrassing in the small echo of the almost empty street.

Ryan start-up his pace, running with the energy he was about to save for his crying, he could let everything go at home. Quickened his pace until steps became leaps, the wind whipped his hair back, meeting his eyes like seawater. He pounded his feet across the raw solidified pavement as his lungs strained. In the corners of his view, everything became a blur while feets desperately attempted to create a form of traction. He just really wanted to go home.

He had fights with Shane before, no surprises. A true friendship is formed by bandy words then post-sorry snacks. Most of the time it’s about the show: the budget, the plot of the episodes, what needs to cut out and whatnot. Then both can hold their silence for so long until one of them starts to talk again, moving on from the problem and pick the best opinion that the crew offers instead. If he or Shane isn’t in the mood for bickering, they’ll ask if the other wanted to talk, go see a movie or just a moment of silence. They hardly miss the other’s intentions.

Ryan hasn’t Shane _ truly _ get mad before but from the bits they did weren’t like what he had in mind. Shane is chill, everybody knows that. If something isn’t right to him, he’ll explain his thoughts out. If it’s disapproved, he’ll happily follow the better path that is good for the whole situation. Ryan wonders Shane’s ability to do that, to express himself so freely while Ryan can’t talk back to Buzzfeed about the stupid videos they post on their independent Unsolved’s network.

Shane hasn’t seen Ryan get mad before, Ryan hardly did when all he does is pack up his self-esteem and throw it to the corner, keeping his mouth shut even when his blood is boiling. Sometimes, he’ll ask Shane to talk for him, which, quite embarrassing since here’s the ‘host’ and here’s the ‘co-host’.

But tonight, when that blonde guy insulted Shane. It was like a ghost has possessed his body, telling him to crack that guy skull out, break his arms and legs, tear his tux apart. It was like Ricky Goldsworth really jumped out of him. Yet, it died out as quickly as it came when Shane grab his hand. Like Shane got all the power to shatter Ryan, despite Ryan being the gym rat everybody knows.

Then the water overflowed and the dam breaks.

The moment they came to the garden, they were yelling, unrestrained at each other, while their witness is the breezing night and celestial bodies staring down. They went from the scuffle, digress to nonsense, who’s in the other’s way, fucking- Buzz-dicks, why Shane presumed that they needed to split. Then Sara-

Now, Ryan doesn’t hate Sara. She was nice! She was kind and helpful toward other employees on their projects, ready to help whenever they need. They have conversations here and there but there’s nothing more to it than cat videos and Twitter trending tags.

And then there’s more to that name.

She’s the one who worked with him on Ruining History, the one who is close to Shane just like him, the one that’s moving away  _ with _ Shane, the one that danced _ with _ Shane, the one that associated with the name ‘Shane’ better than ‘Ryan’. ‘S&S’ sounds way cooler than ‘S&R’ right?

He doesn’t know why he snaps at that moment, when Shane mentioned Sara. But it was… something.

Sara helped Shane with the goodbye show, dressed in snazzy looks that Ryan may find hard for him to wear. She even- Well he didn’t get to know what she did because he cuts Shane off. But whatever it was, it was important enough for Shane to make an excuse out of. Did she already apply the jobs for them? Did she book the tickets for them? Did she write a sequel to Hot Daga? Who the fuck knows now. But there’s one thing Ryan comprehend.

She is better than him.

It's obvious. Shane expected Ryan to stay at his party, enjoy himself and he couldn’t even do it without being all inconvenient and bothersome. While Sara is there step by step with Shane to be of service to. She was there to assist him in getting back on his old track. Then there’s Ryan saying ‘oh he’s my best friend’ while ruining everything.

‘I just wanted you to be there for my party.  _ That’s it _ ’

Ryan tripped.

Again, for the second time of the past two days. What is he? Five?

His foot caught on a small lip in the pavement and prevented him from taking another step. His hands flung forward on instinct, grazed along the floor. Pricking screamed through his palms in a horrible sting, his body bumping on his arms shortly afterward, press down hard enough to make his skin kiss the sands and cobbles. Now he regrets wearing ripped knees pants, the contact on his genu is confining between the threats.

Everything is worst when there isn’t any rain to reduce exposure, when Shane isn’t here to hold him up.

Ryan had a headache from the trauma of jerking so suddenly, but he slowly getting back on his shaky legs. He doesn’t want to look like a drunk homeless man slowly losing his sanity on the road after all. His hands stung less when the air tamper its tenderness. However, upon inspection under the street light, he found warm blood gushes out of the exposed small wounds and covered with grit. Not life-threatening, just painful.

Impressed with his self-care skills, yet, again. He realizes there’s another red spot on the back of his right hand. It’s dried, leaving a brittle fragile rose under his knuckles. It’s not his blood.

Fuck, he still has that guy’s blood on his hands.

He takes a breath, but it rips through his chest instead, dragging out a sob as he hiccups. His body hurts, every beat of his heart throbs in his ears. Everything blends with the crimson on his fingertips as he wipes teardrops pricking at the corner of his eyelid. His mouth tasted copper.

Ryan walks the rest of the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	14. and i keep waiting like, you might change my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Other" by Lauv  
(https://youtu.be/aSe1adndzfs)
> 
> Trigger warning: Drowning (?)  
"Back and forth now I'm feelin' guilty  
'Cause I just can’t stop this pendulum in my head  
Though I know that our time is ending  
Oh, I’d rather lay forever right in this bed"

‘Your _ babysitter _ isn’t here to back you up anymore’

He takes a while to find the right illusion of his locker. Open the door to his apartment, it’s empty. Like he expected someone to be there and wait for him to come home.

Ryan blindly reaches out to the lights switch. It set alight to the messy room with clothes on the floor, there’s that popcorn bow uncleaned in the sink, the music sheet laying in the middle of his bed. It was just like yesterday he was stressing over Shane’s news.

He takes off his shoes and let his sock-ed foot feel the smooth wood under his toes, settles the guitar to-

Oh, fuck. His son.

Tug open the zipper as fast as he can, he finds some scratches at the front, where it has met the ground he fought. The lower bout loss some of its paint, showing the original wood color underneath. Ryan stroke the layer under his digits, hoping that will heal it somehow. Over the fingerboard, some of the strings are snapped.  
  
Ryan could fix it. But, he can’t find it in him to fix it.

Cause when will he ever play guitar again?

He set the bag aside, rest it by his bed. He believes it’s a good idea to finish the dishes right now, then maybe have a bath later. It could distract him from- that. The thing that happened. Fuck, he can’t even think about it.

The apartment brimming with his heavy breath, the pulse of his heart almost jump out of his rips. His head swims in dizzyness.

‘You’re _ nothing _ with that show’

Ryan set the bow under the water tap, it briskly spread the cold moisture on to his bloodied hands and popcorn bits. He can focus on cleaning the rim of it for a minute.

Bert left him because he found a better job and Ryan has promised himself that ‘from now on, I’ll try my best for the show’. And then he did, he really did. He tries to do voice over again and again on a particular hard name, then he let ‘February’ slipped through. He does the jokes with Shane, he followed Shane’s moves, then the fans said he’s ‘copying’ him, it wasn’t even funny. He risks his sleep schedule to research about his theories. He goes face-first to the dark, empty abandoned places like a mad man when it left him with traumas and cigarettes on his ‘shaky PTSD hands’. Then it’s all ‘just for show’.

At some point, he was tired. He wanted to just give up. Shane reaches out, making yet another meme people can get a laugh out of. Then show’s ratings go off the roof.

‘_Shane _ is a golden magnet, that’s why _ you_’re standing here’

There are tears forming, he wipes it with the fabric on his shoulder. Ryan put the bow to the racks, moving to get his new clothes. The damped material will probably mold on his skin if he doesn’t change soon. The closet welcomes him with pajamas and basketball short, the name ‘Madej’ passes his view. Ryan looks over to see the merch hanging in the corner, it makes his legs wobbles.

‘You’ve read the comments, you know who the fans _ truly _ love’

He picks the pink hoodie with undies and left.

As he makes his way to the bathroom, it’s like his mind his filled with memories and makeup situations blending together, drowns his sanity with the smell of hotel soaps and that navy blue cloth. The small furniture that’s fit for him, but not for someone bigger. A humid figure in front bright radiation asking him if he wanted to sleep here.

Ryan misses his offer that night, there was something different about it. It wasn’t anything like the time he came over to his house, with laptop and Tacobell takeouts in hand. It was like Shane was staying. He asked Ryan to stay but it’s like he was staying, like he is trustful enough for Ryan to be in that room with him, away from the heavy rain. Like Ryan could _ trust him _ being there tomorrow morning, plane tickets pull to pieces in the trash can.

‘You _ still _ want to hold him back?’

He takes off the jacket and throws it on the bed, the sounds of pins rattle, overwhelming in his ears. He takes off the shirt next. Then look to the mirror.

It’s reddish on his chest, on his shoulder blade. The bruises travel over his torso, spoiled his dark flesh. The nerves system shakes hand with his visual perception, make his skin shiver with goosebumps along with stinging pain. Sure, he can stitch himself up. But for what?

His self-care skill is basically based on social interact now.

Ryan fills the bathtub, it has been a while since he enjoyed himself in full-body liquid. He strips off the rest of his clothes. But as soon as he settles inside the little ocean, something hits him.

‘He. Doesn’t. Fucking. _Need_. _You_’

The heartache was like red hot coal placed in his chest, it glowed and burnt him at the same time, but it did not cool quickly like coal in the water right now. As if his blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. Nausea swirled unrestrained in his empty stomach. His head swam with half-formed regrets, like an insatiable fire that eats up all the oxygen in his body leaving him listless and empty.

The combination of beer and wine bubble up his spine, making him sick in the throat. Don’t vomit now, Ry. You’re in a fucking tub.

‘I didn’t see my best friend being there for the restart of my carrier. And that _ broke me_, Ryan’

Ryan could’ve been the unneeded one, useless instead of being a burden for the two. He can’t imagine why he takes Shane’s invitation to the parties, when he knows that it would’ve been better for him to not see Shane at all. It would’ve cost less of a mess. Why did he ever leave the house for?

‘Well I didn't need it’

It was more than crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that is embarrassing enough alone. Ryan had always been so self-conscious when he cried, but didn’t he just did before two people this week already? Who is he even crying to? So he sobbed into his wounded hands and the tears dripped between his fingers, raining down to comfort the cuts before. His breathing was ragged, gasping in the echoes of his bathroom walls. Chest heavy with the black-and-blue marks and the pieces of his shattered heart.

‘I don’t need _ you_’

Bare shoulders shook in each rake of emotion through his frame. Fire of emotions smolder just under his skin and a deep emptiness filled his heart as the sentiments brewed over and boiled past what he desperately tries to hold in the past days. He loves Shane. He is in love with Shane Madej. And he has forgotten all the mean comments and insecurities about Unsolved just to keep the feelings linger, just so he can hold Shane a bit longer in front of the camera for the past _years._ Ryan loves Shane.

But no matter how much he wanted to say it out, it’s over for him already. And not for Shane. The thought of Shane out there, traveling with another close _ friend _ is killing him. Cause he’s so close yet out of reach. He can’t text to Shane now, he can’t even face Shane again when he has humiliated him in front of his new workers. When he, the best friend, wasn’t there for the re-start of his dream that he waited for so long.

They had shared so much that now, Shane leaving is like the end of the world for him. Without Shane there won’t be coffees on a tiring trip, movies with cheap jumpscares that still frighten him, a pat on the shoulder to get lunch.

He's losing his mind… again. He can feel it unraveling, the threads of every happy memory he could ever once recall, all but disarray of strings scattered on the waves between his knees. The tub was full and Ryan was leaning forward, letting his digits slide until they meet his bruised knees. His face inches away from the depth.

What is his purpose anymore when Shane doesn’t need him?

Ryan isn’t suicidal. He knows. ‘There’s is more to live for’ and ‘you’re too young to die’, etc. But taking a break from reality is good right now, if he could just let his brain go offline and forget about that golden fancy ballroom, how Shane looks so good under the chandelier, the garden filled with crickets and their shouting. He used to sleep to get rip of Shane’s hazy frame, his aurora that too radiant for his own good, but he feels like he should get a longer, deeper sleep this time. Not some polyphasic sleeping for a Buzzfeed video.

He held his breath and screams.  
  
It wasn’t a good scream neither, not like the ones from Charleston Jail. It was short, shattering to pieces with hiccups and sobs secondly, bringing water to his mouth. At least it was muffed under the water so neighbors won’t have to complain. Mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand. It made the hair stand straight up on the back of his neck.

He held his breath as long as he could, too long in fact. Red and black splotches danced in front of him and he couldn't remember if his eyes were opened or closed. The coldness he had felt upon entering the water was completely gone. A desperate hot wave had come over, warming even his frosted marks. His heart was beating rapidly in panic. The urgency for air was more apparent than ever. There weren't red blotches in his field of vision anymore. It was all black. Then, he’s boneless. And let himself lost in the sensation of splashes next to his ears. It was like he’s in the blankets again, in that hotel room. Just not overhearing the sound of chattering and music from the bottom floor. Not wanting to look at Shane in person, or through TJ’s messages. He could’ve, he should've stayed like that a little longer and not ruining Shane’s party.

Now he got the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!
> 
> References for the bathtub scene from "Requiem for a Dream" and "Perfect Blue"  
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vt0ulBpi2zA)


	15. for you to feel the same i would do almost anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh boy, school is killing me. I really respect you guys' patience but at the same time, I'm really sorry for the slow update. It's close to the end and I just wanted to put more effort o(╥﹏╥)o
> 
> Y'all know how much I love cliffhangers and I know how much you liked that last chapter. But did you expected [redacted]?!  
"Coming Over" by Dillon Francis & Kygo  
(https://youtu.be/5AOtEnH87Mg)
> 
> "If I stay here would you come back  
If I stay cool would you be mad  
Would you want me if I want you  
That way"

2 missed call from  Big Guy 

Big Guy: where are you?

Big Guy: where are you?

Big Guy: @Ryguy

1 missed call from  Big Guy 

Big Guy: pick up the phone please

1 missed call from  Big Guy 

Big Guy: Ryan did you go home?

Big Guy: please pick up

Big Guy: are you there?

Big Guy: please call me back

Big Guy: I'm sorry

5 missed call from Big Guy

Big Guy: I’m really sorry

Big Guy: call me back as soon as you can ok?

Big  Guy: we're worried

1 missed call from  Big Guy 

Big Guy: coming over

\-----

So, Shane has fucked up.

It’s almost 4 in the morning and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of Sara’s car. His phone spreading electronic luminosity on the rubber material, pricking his vision with Ryan's contract. Sara is driving, she isn't that drunk compared to _ someone _ who is drunk on guilt right now.

They've been driving in silence. After some hours of talking to the host of the hotel, arguing with _ that _ guy, it’s pleasant enough. The traffic light flashes by the window, leaving a dark spot on Shane’s vision. The humid of it lingers with buildings’ apertures, illume his stomach with post-party dishes.

Mark, being the reasonable one of the group, asked to see security camera footage. He makes a statement on their argument in the garden, making Shane somehow abashed by yelling at Ryan while outrage still heating in his veins. Then Shane realizes, he got a point. Kelsey got his back when Shane feels like that room was collapsing on him, leaving his breath short and eye-wide at the screen. He barely notices the boss from Chicago saying sorry for his employee language beside him.

Ryan was really fighting for him, he was really out there, saying such polite words in a soft voice he never heard before, just to approach the animal. It was painful for Shane to hear the insults toward his little guy. He knows how Ryan gets self-conscious about himself, despite it was a joke or a playful knee-slapper. Yet, he only spaned when Shane is mentioned. Then the slow burn was getting to Ryan with each disgusting words the douchebag spat out, he flung his fist, showing what those muscles are really made of. Shane has seen him show off his biceps before, but never uses it for violence. He never thought he could see them work in a situation like this.

But what he did actually see, is Ryan being like that again. ‘That’ as in he thinks he’s a transcendental being and walks in front of moving a vehicle or trying to get himself killed in any emotional or physical way possible. Kelsey and TJ both gives a fixed look on the monitor at that moment, while the air leaves the room.

The camera view can only get the back of the attacker, but Shane could see it, over the ice-blue filter. Ryan tosses his hands around, waving his legs to find a surface to stand up and _ fight_. He opened his eyes, that wide glassy eyes trained on the wine bottle like he saw a ghost inside it. Then just- stop. Accepted it. If Shane didn't come sooner, he could have eaten a glass dessert. 

Ryan closes his eyes. Like he just _accepts_ it.

Did Ryan even _ know _ the dangerous situation he got in? Despite going face first in haunted places, scaring himself to death, just to provoke the ghost of breezes and squeaks, he’s 25 years old, a grown-up Goddammit.

However, Shane gets the memo when Mark taps on his shoulder, giving Sara the keys to their car. ‘Go check on him, please’ his eyes said.

Shane said sorry to the manager a bunch more times, luckily he received the same pity words and forgiveness. What he _ didn't _ receive is the blonde man apologize, who still feels bad for his broken nose. Shane would love to have Ryan's biceps then, just to give this guy another lesson. And to reduce the guilt holding him down.

He was such a_ dumbass_. All of the stress from moving to a new place, being around with a bunch of people, trying to dress up in those fancy clothes that yell ‘this is not what Madej looks like’ just to give a good impression to his boss, it was straining the energy of him. Like, have you _ seen _ what he wore on their almost 70th episode respective? This is not him, being all luxurious and gentleman is not him. He’s not supposed to be here, at this party with people he doesn’t know. He supposed to be at the bar, having fun cracking jokes with the crew, with his actual loved ones.

As much as he loves Ruining History, it’s not perfect without them. Ryan loves Unsolved cause he got the crew, his friends working along, and Shane? Yeah, Sara was nice enough to join the ride but… it’s not enough for him to risk his carrier right now, the life he has at New York.

Shane is really questioning his choice now.

Cause, leaving for a month or two is gonna be good for this crush he’s having. And he could figure himself out, solving the unwanted feelings that have been blooming too much for his own good. And he could see that Ryan wanted that too. How else a person would reply when their hands just accidentally touch? Ryan doesn’t want that, and he doesn’t want to be called ‘baby’ neither. Even though… that wasn’t even about him.  
  
What Ryan wants, is the best for the show. And Shane’s love isn’t that.

But there was something, some tension between them since that fan meetup.  
  
When Shane pulled Ryan away from that car and leave his show, when he sees how Ryan can get so small, his hands shaking on the black line over his chest, tears falling down the man’s pinkish cheeks. His muscles were strangely soft from the angle.   
  
The sudden urge to get closer to Ryan, while still convincing himself that the teardrops were a normal effect of a close one moving away for some time, blossomed when Ryan fell in the rain. He was so close, all pressed up in his arms, cramped with the raindrops and his drenched coat.   
  
Shane tells himself, in their hotel room, that this tiny soaked Ryan can take care of himself with a single towel, just like he can live without Shane for a month. He reminds himself that ‘not like this, he doesn’t want you like this’ when Ryan tug on his sleeve, _ begging _ him to not walk to the other side of the room. Shane restrained the itch to kiss the sleepy Ryan, laying there in his bed, in his clothes, as he watches his chest heaving slow and steady. The insufferable length of the couch can’t kill the ache in his heart as he studies traces of dry tears on Ryan’s face, or neither did Sara’s worrying as she walked into the room an hour later.

It’s still there, the morning after, when he tries to play it off like nothing happened, like he didn’t waste 15 minutes in making that cup of coffee cause he notices how Ryan gets thirsty after a hard night. He was expected _ Ryan_’s signal, to show that ‘hey, I’m ok with my best friend taking care of me so that it could be easier in a relationship later’. Then he remembers that he has to go to that employee gathering and it ruins his already anxious mood. As soon as Ryan replied with a ‘no’, he so soon twisted the door’s handle. Grabbing Sara's hand a bit too tight, ignore her questions and the guilt deep in his bones.

Shane holds himself back when Ryan appeared in the crowd, so close yet so far to hugging him. Seeing that familiar face blurred everybody else around, God knows who his boss is and where new co-workers are. They danced, they sang, they being _them._ And Shane even gets to see him showing his guitar skills, _again,_ for _him._ Then Shane told himself, this could never end. He doesn’t want this to end. His love is not enough to replace this. The consequences of his confession aren’t enough to offer this away. This reality of being with Ryan, with this human being that fascinated with UFO and nonexistent creatures. Shane doesn’t want it to ever end.

They have taken an oath.

He was supposed to do some explaining on the ‘leaving never coming back’ too. But, Ryan gets the message, he probably got it since yesterevening, just didn’t hear over his drunken brain. Sara offers him some distractions, and, it worked. They could work it out in a month. Everyone is happy. As long as he can just cherish their friendship instead of daydreaming about touches, everything will be in its place. Then everything will be how it used to.

But then Ryan goes off and makes him stumble over the perfect escape path.

Shane tried to cut it short, just say it out then and there. The alcohol did _ not _ get well with his irritability. He makes up some shits, which, wasn’t lies but not the whole truth. He needed to get away from Ryan, just a small shove saying ‘we’re friends, that’s it, you don’t want to ruin Unsolved and I know that’. But it got worsed, he pushes Ryan all the way down.   
  
However, looking back at it, he broke only when Shane mentioned Sara.

They _ really _ need to talk about this.

The wind pushes on the car to no avail, the roaming of the engine meld with the radio, playing a gentle track. Sara focuses her tired eyes on the road. They are close to their destination now, Shane should probably tell her about it, right? She was by him throughout this whole moving away thing now, they clicked together well enough to start the show back, so why can’t Shane just say it out?

Ryan was acting like he and Sara were dating or something. It’s weird. Even with best friends.

Shane traces the window pane, hazy and technicolor flash in the dark automobile. His legs are way too long for the seat, they hunched up to his stomach.

The past two days have done nothing better, when his conscious is dipped in beer, they start digging on certain points. Like Ryan was straight up leaving his party without saying to anyone, processed to walk in front of a car, almost take a glass bottle to the face. It’s like when Shane isn’t around, he just couldn’t stay still, nor taking care of himself properly. It’s always been like that, sleepless night of work, no brunch for VO recording sections. Like he doesn’t know how much he meant to Shane.

And, it’s his instincts to take care of Ryan. There’s just this- thing, that they do. Shane just can’t keep his view away from this baby, this absolute angel for a second. Outside of the haunted places and camera lens, Ryan is Ryan. And he does dumb shits all the time.

Shane just hoped he isn’t doing any of that now, when he’s too far away for his own comfort.

The engine stops in front of the apartment. Shane opens the doorway, knowing it’s better for him to see Ryan right now. The cold air finds its way through the entrance, making itself at home in the passenger seat. He bites his lips, getting out of the car. “Hey”

Shane turns to see Sara, her hands knotted in golden curs, she looks emphasize with her words. “Talk to him, alright?” He doesn’t ask how she knows, just her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. There’s empathic in her dark marbles. Shane only gives a single nod.

If he couldn't have Ryan, at least let them be friends again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	16. let's just keep pretending to be friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Carried Away" by Passion Pit  
(https://youtu.be/DiEwJTOderQ)
> 
> You guys have no idea of the troubles I got from writing this (ఠ్ఠ ˓̭ ఠ్ఠ) But finally, they're here! The final chapters.  
"Cause I'm sorry, sorry bout that  
Sorry 'bout things that I've said  
Always let it get to my head"

The tapping of Shane’s foot against his suitcase makes time slower somehow.  
  
He has been standing in front of Ryan’s door for a while, the friend didn’t answer either his knocks or doorbell. Concerning, but it’s Shane who wanted to see him at the logical sleep time right? He probably passes out from the drinks apparently, he always does after going out with the office.

Shane knows so many small shits about this man.

Like how he fiddles with his hands when he gets nervous. He would cut the shift short for TJ or Devon when they're trying to finish the script for an episode, he would tell them it’s finished when it clearly doesn’t, then silently work at home. His fingers would slacken on the paper or hovering over the keyboard, his little frown, not knowing how to end the episode with the classic 'remains unsolved’. Shane would wake up early after sleeping at a location, and he will have to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from crying out over the cuteness of Ryan's little drool, that relaxed face and toned chest heaving with every breath, getting himself at least an hour of sleep before packing up again. Ryan would pull his sleeping bag to the top stop, despite how hot it was to keep the ghosts from ‘slipping in’. Those mornings, Shane forgot the sun shining outside the window, cause he got one right here.

There wasn’t a certain point for him to say ‘oh shit, that’s homosexual affection’. Cause he received a lot from Ryan already, it almost felt like they were a couple, an old married couple as people say. I mean, waiting for each other at their desk to grab brunch and coffee? That’s pretty gay bro. Sometimes they found themselves in each other’s shirt or pants, they could laugh it off or wondering if the internet notices, and keep it in the special corner of their drawers, reminds themselves to give it back. Yet, that [ gray sweater ](https://ghoulieboys.tumblr.com/post/169269699399/umm-er-what-the-fuck-ryanbaergara) never makes it back... neither did that [ Chicago shirt](https://616-bucky.tumblr.com/post/173579451865/oh-thats-why-the-shirt-was-familiar). Ok, but, maybe if they did, it would bathe in Ryan’s scent, and that basketball frat boy never showers with CeraVe Hydrating or something. 

Not like Shane’s mind.

Right, perhaps his ‘no homo’ standard is different from Ryan’s. But, he never considered going further. At least, not until a couple of months back. When Ryan has been hitting too close to home with the bit, his long eyelashes have been _ really _ distracting for Shane, they’ve been going out more than usual. They were just… them, just regular dudes hanging around. And Shane doesn’t want to ruins that tenderness loiters every time their fingers touch on accidents, paying for each other’s Chipotle. He knows where to stop before the L word grew too big to contain in his lanky body.

Ryan and his passion for Unsolved, his conscientious in pronouncing every language perfectly, his dumb fucking smile that gleaming too much for his own good, those jumpy legs that have taken him all over the world, his silly fear of bear yet idolize Paddington. Everything about him is all Shane could ever hope to see, and he will never put their platonic relationship on the line.

There was a noise from his left that drag him out of his mind. Some person was locking their door. Who the fuck lock their door _ now _?

Shane fumble for his phone, tap on Ryan's phone number. His ringtone gentle in the empty hallway. Shane is aware he looks like a burglar right now, standing in front of an apartment in the middle of the night. His screen lights up with cochineal.

Despite the troubling simmering in his heart, it’s alright of course, no rushing. Give him more time to put his words together. ‘Hey man sorry for the past few days I’ve been a douchebag and didn’t care about you over the events but now I’m here and I’m sorry’. That, and he hopes Ryan has enough compassion for him to sleepover too. He got his bag and Sara decides to go home after dropping Shane off to fix his mess. They eventually meet up again at the airport tomorrow-

Pin Shane's hopes on it, he’ll have enough time to think about this trip through.

He leans on the door handle, letting his body’s weight rest on the small metal. The chilliness dip through the fabric of his shirt. He shifts uncomfortably. It clicks opens.

What…? Ryan never leaves his door unlocked.

Shane questionly enter the apartment, the lights are on, harsh in his vision. He gives the lonely hallway a look, and walks in with his suitcase. Just bust in your friend's home is better than looking shady at 4 in the morning right?

Entering the place, he meets clothes laying on the floor, the guitar he luckily meets once or twice resting on the bed full of blankets. Messy enough to show that Ryan has crashed out and not expecting any visitors. Shane leaves his stuff by the doorway, his socked feet meet the ligneous flooring.

"Ryan?"

Slowly shambles over the mess, the air condition breath out a gust of coldness over his head, leaving him more breathless. Ryan's phone is face-up on the bed, still lighting up his missed calls. There's a cup of coffee on the night table, a piece of rounded up paper and pencil. What is this? High school?

It takes Shane a while to _ hear _ it, to even notice the muted water splashing in the closed bathroom over how quiet it was. Convinced that Ryan was at indeed home, he should make himself at home, go through his sorry again then maybe-

Crying, there was crying.

Fainty, patchwork with the drip-drop of saturation. It became more of a gasp, then a whimper the way it rips through the air. Is Ryan having a mental breakdown? Sure he saw Ryan cry before and it scrapes him to the heart but, he didn’t actually _ see _ it. And the thought of seeing Ryan, the toughest, bravest ghoul hunter he ever knew with tears is the last thing he wanted to see on this so far wild night. But… hearing it without knowing if Ryan is really ok is worse. He’s not gonna coming out of that room any time soon.

As his heart bashing in his rips, Shane unwillingly takes a step closer to the door. Everything in the room became silent for him to concentrate on the sorrowful noises from the other side, his eyes glued to the corner of the room. Ryan’s weep cuts off by a cough, strident to Shane’s ears. Then he was _choking._

Not knowing the basic rules of a closed bathroom, Shane flung the door opens like a mad man.

Ryan was in his clothes, thank God, the pink-ish hoodie and undies that aren’t able to past the upper cloth hem that much. His frame is shaking by the toilet seat, tiny. Water is spilling over the bathtub, forming a layer of moisture. The street’s lights slip through his small blurred window, dancing on the wall. Lemon and cobalt frolicking, making a motif for the reflections on the marble materials. A dreadful fresco.

“Ryan?” ignoring the wetness creeping in his socks, Shane posthaste closes the faucet of the tub and opens the drain. The water back off at a leisurely pace, the rest still speckle on the acrid ground. “Ryan” he calls out again, setting down next to said friend. He has put a hand over the seat, resting his forehead against the forearm, his dark hair dripping the odor of shampoo. It takes Shane a second to realize that _ other _ smell. “Christ”

The vomitus is full of liquor, sundry with so many drinks that Shane doesn’t know if those were available at his party. He set a palm on Ryan’s shivering back, shaking with crying and post-vomiting. He’s still sobbing, taking in acute breaths that rive through his chest, unmindful of Shane’s present. Ryan begins to slow down a bit, holding his gasp in, trying to get a grip of himself. He holds aloft his face saturated with tears and eyes dazed, then processes to bring the wine bottle, that Shane hasn’t notice till now, from his left-hand to his mouth. Washing the sickness in his throat with _ more _ vino.

“Dude!” Shane yanks the bottle. The force wasn’t strong with this one, but it makes a wasted Ryan snap out of his fever headspace and loss balance. His grip, however, still around the bottleneck, unaffected. Ryan lands on his back, with Shane still tugging the object and hovers over the younger. Shane snatches the bottle till it almost meets his ear, his other hand press down to Ryan’s chest. “You- gotta- stop” The other’s clench wobbly, unfastened by the humidifying. Shane gets the bottle away from Ryan’s reach while he still on the ground, wet ground. Ryan reaches for it, but then his eyes are wide, the brown marbles direct to Shane- no, the bottle, like it got the secrets he needs.

Fight or flight, Ryan hauls his arms up, hands over his face. His shoulders crouch, making his frame even smaller than normal. Those strong biceps trembles, like they’re made of glass, and the only shield is his coral hoodie. And, he stays like that, in a defensive state, while crying.

Shane's stock till on top of him, then he realizes that the lights have glint the glassware, the ray making coloration shatters inside it, pieces of tint collisions.

The taller slowly composes himself to kneel back as Ryan hiccuping broken sentences. His voice is gravelly, raspy like he was screaming at chairs in the Charleston. He looks minuscule, broken, laying there. Shane leaves the bottle to his side, the sound of glass vaguely in the echo-y space. He is conscious of the culpability put in the wrong place, along with the dejected. Shane wasn’t trying to _ hurt _ him or anything. He was just-

Oh. The party.

Shane doesn’t study psychology, but he’s aware of Ryan’s sensitized to... certain items now. When his breathing has somewhat back to normal, he reaches to Ryan again, slowly this time. The thundering of his heart was soothed with Ryan’s easy movements, he’s not completely sober yet, but Shane guesses the apprehension had some effects. He puts his arms around Ryan’s shuddering frame, his digits meet each other on the back. Ryan is so small, Shane could without a hitch warp him up. And he would do that, he would. Shane will take care of Ryan.

\-----

Shane runs Ryan a bath and takes a new pair of clothes for him. He chickens out as soon as Ryan begins to gain control of himself, taking off his wear when the tub is ready. The warm cleansing fills the bathroom with an attenuated haze, it tips over the door when Shane exits. His sight pins to Ryan and his bruised chest and knees, the discoloration stain his honey pigmentation, clearly didn’t have any kind of treatment. Shane’s head muzzy as he leaves.

Anxiously waiting for Ryan to come out of the shower, Shane found himself thinking of the apologize again. The shrill atmosphere of 5 am like a slap to his drowsy being, even after the ‘accidental scared’ he got. He has turned off the lights, the mollify moonlight is good enough to proliferation the bedroom with hues of blue through the windows. Taking off his disgusting wet socks, he finds the blankets on the bed softer than normal.

The click of the door got his attention, he glances over to meet Ryan in cerulean t-shirt and boxers. His hair is all over the place, caught up between his dark fingers and white towel. He looks rather shaken up by Shane at his bedside.

“Hey”

“Hey”

Shane turns his body to face Ryan, hands settled on his knees. He has taken the vest off, leaving only his natural shirt. Ryan’s lips press to a line, his little frown of not know what’s going on gives Shane the courageous. Although the back of his mind is scrunched up by the night and drinks.

“Thanks for. Helping me back there” Ryan said.

“Yeah, it’s. It’s no problem”

Tranquility. They can hear the wind knocking on Ryan’s window.

“So, I’m sorry” he started, studying Ryan. “I’ve misunderstood the situation at the party and, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I know I’ve been caught up with all the works and stuff. And, it’s my fault that-”

“No” he looks up, Ryan let the towel dangling on his shoulders. His aspect antagonizes, like Shane said something _ that _ offensive. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong, ok? You didn’t know. It’s alright”

“It’s not ‘alright’ Ryan. You ran off, _ again. _ Twice. And both of it’s my-”

“Shane” Ryan throws the cloth to the basket by the bathroom’s entrance. He steps closer, with every stride, Shane’s brain melted more. He’s so small, yet, trying to tower over Shane, the man that’s already face to face with him when he’s sitting. Imperceptible soap sweep through the fog of his senses, Ryan’s body still mild and waterlogged, patterns of damp steep through his newly worn shirt. Shane’s aware of the marks on his torso, barely visible through the thin layer of fabric, he should get some ice on that.

“Look, I’ve been. I’ve-” He lost his words for a moment, face inches away from Shane. “I’m sorry if you think this is your fault. It’s not. It’s me who messed up your schedule. You-”

“Are you jealous of Sara?”

“What?” His eyes widen, that expression Shane’s familiar with. “What- No! Why would I ever-”

“You only snaped when I mentioned her,” Shane said as a matter of fact. “Ryan” he stares at the smaller, waiting till their eyes meet again. “Is there something?”

Ryan swallows his pride, shake a leg and start to fling his hands around, demonstrates feelings that can’t be formed. “It’s- It’s been a while since I liked you and you were just- You were having fun- and you didn’t notice so I thought I could hide but you start moving and away- I’m _happy._ I do, I really do- But I can’t pull you in my shits to keep you stay or-” At this moment Shane stands up on his feet, looming over Ryan, watching him babbling, there are tears pricking at the corner of his tired eyes. “And I don’t want to keep you back- you should be out there, you’re happy- I can’t be the burden in this-”

Shane uses his subdue hand Ryan’s bicep, the other found its way to lift Ryan’s chin up. That is all he needed, this high-octane Ryan to finally, finally say the buried message out, loud and clear. Ryan stays rooted to the spot, the wine is doing something to him that he just-

Shane leans down and kisses him.

Shane is kissing Ryan.

Holy shit.

It was kind of a peck, just lips pressing lips, nothing too confusing like French kiss that Ryan has read.

But he shoves his palm to Shane’s chest, still exhausted, so the constraint didn’t do much. He moves his legs back, desperately moving away from the other at far as he can. Ryan can’t do this. He can’t go through this again, when he thought everything could settle and he’s not being an encumbrance. Shane has to go, he has to leave with Sara later and he can’t stand that. Shane could be happier without Ryan.

“Ry?” Shane’s tone is small, gentle between the open space. He doesn’t want to force Ryan anything, but he sure he’s getting the signals corrects, right?

“You- you gotta go” Ryan hiccough through the tears, tears falling down his cheeks. “I- you don’t need- I don’t deserve you-”

But Shane just held him closer, their chest pressing. “Ryan, you went through a bunch of shits just for me and my dumbass. I-”

“No!” Ryan yelps “You don’t understand- I’m- I ruined everything and-”

Shane tips his head down again, this time undertakes to shut Ryan up. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below the friend’s ear, his thumb caressing his stubble wet with tears as their breaths mingled. Shane ran his fingers down Ryan’s spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.

Ryan still tussling to budge, but hell, he hardly had a moment to react before Shane pressed his tongue to Ryan’s grant of unexpected access. It was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of wine being exchanged in the intermingling of their billowing breaths. Ryan’s hamstring meets the edge of his bed after his feet blindly taking steps back. Cause somewhere in his judgment still shriek over the sound of Shane’s mouth against his.

‘He doesn’t need you Ryan’

“N-no stop- you don’t want to- you’ll-” Shane brings him down to the bed, nail him down to the blankets. His hands found Ryan’s and secure them over his head, pressing down. “Shane-”

“I love you, Ryan. I do”

His eyes as he said it. They’re intense, dark lens fills with sincere and genuine. The color of hazel turns up a tone, wide and famished. It’s exactly how it looked when he mumbled ‘They’ll bring the show back’. Like Ryan is his show, his spotlight that he dreamed to shower in.

After almost years of friendship, Shane has him under him, heaving with short breath. The person he wishes to share more time sleeping in dirty old houses and hold hands as they walk into Buzzfeed, thrilled with the day ahead. His flyaway hair that been abused with too much gel, fluffy after Shane’s witty comment about it. His perfect teeth that always shown when he smiles. His thick eyebrows showing readable emotions, habitually full of life. If he can only prove to him now, how much he thinks of Ryan and his perfect body then maybe he could push all of his loopy self-doubts back.

Ryan froze under him, like those muscles are just for show, then sucks in a sharp breath as Shane nibble his jawline, his five-o-clock shadow. The ‘thump thump thump’ of his heart loud, even Shane could hear it, peradventure. His stunned brain starts to take in the information.

Shane… loves him.

And now he’s showing it, bathe Ryan with smooches and hum praises as he goes down, down to the hem of Ryan’s shirt, on the waistband of his short pressing upward. His cheeks go flushed, smear the tint over his pale skin. And he gives Ryan this look, this hungry eyes that Ryan can’t help but feel nervous, just a little.

“Y’know I…” The older dawdle, expect Ryan’s red eyes on him again “I want to leave for Ruining but, I only need a reason to stay”

Ryan sucks in a breath, still for only a moment longer.  
  
He takes off the rest of his pants for him.

\-----

The next morning was an... experience.

Ryan thought waking up after having sex with your best friend is gonna be ungainly. Kinda like a one night stand but the guest never leave, and there's no chance to even erase yesterday's evening with a block of the phone number. He thought he got himself some friend with benefits situation.

The egg yolk sun poured through the cracks in the blind and awaited entrance into Ryan's eyes. Sight still in the clutches of the night's glue, he hesitantly rubbed yesterday’s memories away, half expected all of it was a dream. Thoughts of the visions in sleep come and go in waves, clinging on to the very last memory of the night but with little success.

Shane's body is like a cocoon around Ryan. His chest against his back, warm and _real._ Ryan’s vision brings his skin into focus, not yet animated with the warmth of who he is, for he’s still in la-la land And since there is no better thing to do, Ryan slowly moves out of Shane's envelop, but the movement reminded him of _ something else._

He hisses, Shane's snore stuffer behind the back of his neck.

"You gonna take some time for that"

Ryan flushes, hides his face in the arm below him.

They go slow. Shane got up and gives him pain meds. Ryan tries his best to hide the contents of his refrigerator, sadly Shane won over that. They got sandwiches shipped to his house as brunch. They didn't talk much, just silently using their phone. Shane talks back and forth on the phone, talking to TJ, then a lighter tone of Sara.

Ryan’s heart sinks a bit.

He thought he should just jump out the window, until Shane put his hands over Ryan's knees, drawing circles over the bruises. It still pricking under the dried blood.

"You got a med kit?"

Shane put on Paddington, the old DVD that was laying in Ryan's closet for God knows how long. It distracts him from the stings of pain every time the medical cloth draws over his marks. Shane's fingers were something else, velvety, watchful over Ryan’s motion. The tips of them still remain when Ryan’s palms and knees decorated with Band-Aid. He binds up the other’s chest with a white bandage, hoping they’ll heal until the next time Ryan has to take off his shirt for Steven or something.

Ryan threw up the rest of the uncomfortable contents left in his stomach, along with his breakfast, Shane showers his back with small pats. They have pizza for dinner.

The rest of the day, they start banter about the crew's pictures in the group chat. And then a lot of 'sorry's and explanations happened. They worked it out.

They go to sleep at 8, the energy drained after one long week, even when they got themselves a day off.

They have pillow talk, but nothing to do with their unnamed relationship. Actually, nothing from today was about them. But it was fun to just… talk. Their banter was crude and they insulted each other often, but that was the way it was with them. Chatting with Shane was a sort of verbal dance, one beautifully chaotic, one that makes you laugh out loud feel your heart switching on. Ryan lived for it, looked forward to it, and would have spent any amount of time in his company that Ryan could have. They bounced remarks between themselves like a kid's rubber ball.

Laying next to Shane then, it was different from the time they filmed. Shane's here, without the cameras and ghosts. His body is warmer than any of Ryan’s favorite teddy bear, beside Paddington, and big, all encase around Ryan, making him feel small, safe.

Ryan sleep without worrying, almost forgot the main problem tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments provide me reasons to live and more chapters!


	17. cause all i ever wanted was to show you the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane Alexander Madej  
JFK  
New York - Chicago  
Sunday 24/11/19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Losing U" by Klingande  
(https://youtu.be/UVaU0zPCqF0)
> 
> This is it. This is it (*✹*)  
I want to say thank you for all of your compliments and comments throughout this entire fic. Every time I'm in writer block, I always look up to you guys. Thank you for being with me on my first long fic <3  
"If we need to say goodbye, I do  
If staying here could save your life, I would  
I will make you happy, there is nothing I won't do  
So I'm losing you"

There’s the sound of soothing air conditional. Ryan never pondering about it, how windy it sounds, yet buzzing with the mechanism. It’s a lull for his awake being.

Tousles in his bed, feeling the cotton on his bare flesh, not really ready for a new day yet.

Hey, that rhymes.

As he chuckled to himself like the nerd he is, there’s the tone of decaf in his apartment. The familiar smell of filter coffee rose and dissipated into the crisp air. His nose tingled with the usual morning flavor while his throat winces from soreness. Ryan prep himself up with one hand, flutter away the asteroids from his vision.

One of his feet found the floor, the movement reminded the bandages on his chest, over the bruises from the fight. He looks down, eyes meeting the upper edge of his nip, the color of white cloth over his dark skin. A painstaking treatment that Ryan almost never got for himself.

“Morning” Shane appears from his kitchen, a tray of cereal and coffee on his hands this time. Deliberate fingers wrap on the plastic edge while his long legs multi-tasks. He’s wearing a common t-shirt, the daffodil one that’s close to the color of his words.

There’s a certain reason why Ryan sees him like that, it’s on the show! On Unsolved, the merch the fanarts. It’s the color tone he worked with, kinda like his personality, a sunflower always looks up to things. Ryan didn’t even sure if that was his favorite color, it just… happens, when he asked him to keep the original text speech for Brent when he left. And Shane just sticks to it, no questioning.

His butterflies in his belly take off as Shane leaves the breakfast on the night table, then sits next to him, dipping the bed down with his weight. Ryan can see the damped spots on his wild hair, the bijou droplets of water on the back confirms his morning shower.

Ryan smiles back.

He reaches over to the remote, opens up the news and settles back to his pillow, patting the spot next to him as he takes the early meal to his lap. Shane heeds.

Ryan ogles colorful wheels of cereal float around in the bowl full of milk, the smell scrumptious. Did his apartment even_ have _edible food? The moment feels like every seaside daydream and the pace of life drifts by rather than marches. Upon the soft blankets, they sit, him and Shane. Yet for all of these furnishings, for all the wonderful aromas of the breakfast and the coffee, it is Shane’s not-so-awake-yet face that he loves. He could stay here forever, until he’s healed from the past week emotion wreck, till the injuries are cured. Even if he’s fully blooming again, he’s still weak, still, love-sick when Shane is around. He couldn’t ever get enough of Shane.

The quiet murmurs of TV never catch Ryan’s attention, he takes a spoonful of grain, moist with the white liquid. “You. Um…”

Shane’s digits wipe through the wet stain on the corner of his mouth. His face fairly neutral, with the downward eyes and long nose, he always does. But this has a certain softness to it, like Ryan is the most delicate thing he ever put his hand on. His eyes crinkle sparkles with celestial bodies, lips curves to a smile.

Ryan turns away, aware of the blush blooming on his cheeks. Shane chuckle. The most bewitching sound for him.

They stay in silence, let the reporter on the screen talks for them. The clacking sound of Ryan’s spoon against the bowl sometimes breaking the words. He finishes, leaving the coffee cup for later, Shane's coffee for him is something else, like it’s too much for him to enjoy at once. Speaking of later-  
  
“Hey” he snuggles next to Shane, even when their bodies already feeling the heat of each other “What you wanna do today?” It’s Sunday.

Shane’s still for a moment, like he just zoned out in front of his computer. Ryan grins. Then the laugh dies in his throat as he sees the content Shane’s holding in his palm.

The plane ticket.

He has been fiddling with it, between his fingers.

Today is Sunday.

“Ryan I-”

“Look-”

It takes all of his courage to look Shane in the eyes. They’ve darkened, Ryan doesn’t like it.

“It’s ok” Ryan’s voice rough.

“I know but-” Shane stares down his soul “Will you be ok?”

“It’s only a month right?” he bites back the fact.

“You-” the other swallow his words, but kept his meaningful gaze. ‘Will you be ok? Will you take care of yourself? Can you stand being in a long relationship? Will you still love me when I’m away?’’

Ryan moves closer to him until their elbow touches.

‘Yes’

It’s the hardest part of a romance, if that’s what they’re now. You learn to accept it, to adapts the reality and to live with it. They’ve gone through misconceives and finally talk it through. And though they move in new spheres, following the challenges their futures bring, Ryan hopes Shane feels, knows that his heart is his, his five foot ten being is all for Shane. So even though they travel onward alone, and in time perhaps with each other again, they’ll both know that they have each other to go back to, to call each other despite the time zones and works.

It's only for a month.

Why does it sound like a goodbye?

Maybe the short term domestic makes Ryan overthink. He wanted, needed more of that. The lovely heat of Shane’s body next to him. Breakfasts in bed when he’s too tired. His black peeper, not soulless nor lifeless. Instead, they were like two pristine stones of onyx, that lit up with a purple flare when touched by morning light. His thin and frail, shaped by prominent phalange bones and knotted where the joints curled around the ends of each long and short bone in his hands, digits caress Ryan. The man had a long face, yet was handsome nonetheless. His bone structure was symmetrical, cheekbones high and prominent, blushes oh so clear every time.

It’s Shane, it’s all Shane.

"Ryan?" Shane hovers, unsure "My flight is-"

"Oh yeah. Yeah" they got off the bed, Ryan's view sticks to the suitcase by the door, probably packed when Ryan was still asleep.

Shane takes the suitcase's handle, but still, lingers there like he was waiting for something. Ryan stands in the middle of the room, looking at how Shane was trying to make himself smaller, like he wanted to sink to the floor and never leave.

Shane turns around and. Well, he shouldn’t have turn around.

Ryan's small frame blocks out the rest of the light from the window behind. His feature is hard to tell from this backlit angle, but he can make out the tight fists next to his hip and eyebrows drew upward. The dust moving around him looks like lightning bugs and on top of his head, they look like city lights at night, a tiny version of the city.

He doesn’t wanna leave his New York.

The said man just stares at Shane, uncertain with his act. What does he do now? Give him a kiss? A hug? Wave? How about going with him to the airport and_ then _say goodbye? It just tarries, going back and forth in his head. Cause he knows Shane wanted this, just a small-time between them so the retrouvailles will get bigger the next time they see another, plus working on his project, his dream that Ryan knows just matter to him as Unsolved. “See you. Big guy”

“Bye, little guy” Shane said. There’s that fucking look that urges him every time to do something. His eyes were waiting, waiting, dark and hopeful for _ anything _Ryan can offer at this moment. 

Shane opens the door and exits.

His aurora is setting in the west.

Ryan ignores the pang in his chest, and continue with his day.

Later on, as his room immersed in that cup of coffee, he notices the blue towel at his bedside, folded neatly. He wondered if it had a second meaning. The apartment has the appearance of being abandoned, it’s strange, unfamiliar to the owner of the place. Everything is too big and too inexplicable, shatter together as demoralized figures. It’s empty and _wrong,_ cause Ryan always has something, a ghoul or any demon his mind could make up that kept him mumbling incomprehensive to the shadows at the corner of his room. Yet, nothing came up.

There’s something missing.

Ryan's nostrils engulfed the delicate hint of decaf in the air, and with it, his brain flooded with pictures of Shane. His face just as pretty as the first day he saw him, his eyes twinkling with laughter and his teeth glistening as he smiled.

Ryan fell for him harder than a block of slip-on black ice. He was funny, always cracking jokes. He had Ryan in stitches on every recording, and the camera lens captured all of his loving gazes. Friends flocked to Shane like he were the only light in the room, hanging on his words, buying him drinks and slapping his back. After a time Ryan wanted more than that, Ryan already loved Shane, he wanted to get to know the man behind the punch lines. And he did. What’s there left for him to do?

‘Y’know I…’

Shane’s words topple over his head as he put on his jacket, now cleaned and all the buttons are on the table. The ‘Unsolved’ one judging him through it melted face. He left Shane’s coffee on the stray, in the middle of his blankets island. He has wasted… what? two cups that Shane made for him? However, he knows he doesn’t have to save it anymore.

Shane will make another one for him.

Ryan bust through the door, the sound of wood slammed to the wall and he couldn’t give a fuck. Take one look at the working elevator, he bolts to the stairway.

Taking two steps at a time, Ryan’s knee bumped on to the railings, his palm burns where it kisses the handles.

‘I want to leave for Ruining but’

He got to the entrance of the building, finding strangers’ faces and heights definitely not over average. Eyes wild, he just gonna nail his vision on any, any person with that dopey face, that flowing hair.

The early morning paint the street with a busy view. Cars race between traffic lights, individuals making their way on the pavement under the sunny sky. Ryan has walked these streets his whole life, he knows them just the same as if they were etched in his head with a sharp knife, scored in deep like some strange work of art. These are the streets he grew up on and for the most part, he’s just happy he knows his short cuts to work. Today, he remembers the nearest airport.

He knows what’s missing, and he gonna get it back.

His senses are on high alert, searching for everything, anything that screams ‘Shane’. Luckily, that person he knows so well just found himself in a taxi. And now moving away in the crowd.

Ryan followed his own grueling pace without complaint. The warm humidity of the busy street made him feel sticky and suffocated. His clothes and hair, slick with perspiration, clung to his skin. Sweat rolled down his skin in thick, salty beads. It’s way more than he bargain for when he was at the gym.

He meets the bus stop then, and eagerly jumps on the next trip. Steady his breath as the vehicle makes its way through preoccupied circulation. He stands, the floor bumping with every roll of the wheels.

‘I only need a reason to stay’

_ Ryan _ is the reason. It was _ Ryan _all along.

And, yeah, maybe he disagrees with that one, that Shane shouldn’t split from whatever job or company he doesn’t like to complete his goal, risks everything just to be Ryan’s ‘co-host’ again. But he’d do anything to feel Shane’s touch on him, his heavy breath on the back of his neck, fingers intertwine lazily under the covers.

Seeing that his destination is here, he wheezes as he starts his pace again. His legs feel numb and unsteady, painfully sore. His throat feels dry, so uncomfortably dry. He should’ve taken a sip of Shane’s coffee before go hell-bent for leather.

Pushing all the obstacle figures aside, he found Shane’s taxi parked in front of the arrivals. He pushes through the lines of passengers, hasten over the lounge. The place is a cocoon of steel, the walls so elegantly curved and wrapping around to create this inner space. And the beams supported so many windows, let in so much light, that in the daytime it is as bright as any summer day. People moved as chaotic rainbows, so brilliant were the colors. They flowed from the check-in desks to the cafe's and through the gates, each one of them heading for a destination of their own making.

And Shane is heading to the other side of the security door, waving his last goodbyes to the crew there and hand in hand with his suitcase.

Not on his watch though.

Ryan hurtles, squeezes through the spaces between flesh walls. He’ll sorry later.

Shane turns to Sara, walk with her over the landside. His feet seconds away from the gate.

The scream tore through him like a great shard of glass. Ryan had no clue as to what he’d do when he got there, just that he had to get there, fast. Throw his pride away to the sea of people, or maybe, no one at all. Cause right now there’s only Shane. Shane is there, he loses his grip around Shane but he is _there._ In the void, the hollowness of Ryan’s life without him. He can see him, his partner, his lover he just gives away.

“_Shane! _”

Leaping over the security guards, he heard words, razor-edged in his ears. There’s the mix of surprises from his friends, some warnings from the guards, but he only sees Shane.

His frame stock still as Ryan slam his body to his back, clinches on to him till the fabric of his shirt doesn’t exist. He hides his face to Shane’s spine, melting into his nine-foot physique like he's a child.

He distantly hears the sound of the trolley helve knock on the floor, footsteps closing in behind.

He doesn’t care if he gets banned from the airport next vacation, he doesn’t care if he no longer has the urge to see the public, he doesn’t _care._ He doesn’t want to let go because he knows that if he let go, he won't be able to hold him again. So he ties his fingers together on Shane’s stomach, tight enough that it must hurt both himself and Shane. The smell of morning shower still sticks around, assortment with every bad memory from this week, then the candied apology, the perfect cherry on their unsolved tension. Ryan is definitely not missing the dessert. He doesn’t cry, not this time, the teardrops have been evaporated by his need of Shane.

Flows, create peace, bring harmony to the office with his stories. He laughs freely, becomes soft, playful, hopeful. Ryan wishes he could be like that more often, it would be so nice. But he wants Shane to teach him, to guide him on how to loves himself again. He has been so hard on himself, forgetting his meals and sleeps for work, and Shane loves him, he loves him and he’d want the best for him, so he’ll stay and tell Ryan that he’s here, he loves him.

Shane’s body leans down as he picks up the suitcase handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are everything to me!
> 
> Now, self-judgment time:  
+Time: I should really think twice before writing a long fic. Tbh, I thought it would only take a week. Boyy I was wrong. I should write everything beforehand then post, not leaving you guys waiting for cliffhangers -.-  
+Spliting chapters: Chapter 1 is 1k words, till chapter 9-10 is 2k, then 16-17 are my entire 15 pages of Google doc  
+OOC: I'm not sure if I'll ever write in character...  
+English: Wrong use of words, a lot of grammar errors, writing is too sturdy, losing the flow  
=> Definitely not a perfect fic, have a lot of flaws. But I'm proud that I can see my improvement from each chapter, it's something I guess ¯\\_(⊙︿⊙)_/¯


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